I'm nothing more than a balance sheet nailed to the wall. When the numbers aren't lining up, they'll call I'm a simple equation to be solved Emotional matters don't matter at all I don't want to be a string of numbers counted constantly in the shadows Dispatching orders from the deep end, to me drowning in the shallows Another few cents added to the paycheck, the gains are feeling hollow It's too little, too late to help me for tomorrow At the finish line for these capitalist games Jokes on them, I'm about to win the race Bolting so fast through the track I'm blasting off into space They can go on counting their numbers without me, good riddance, won't miss this place