Theory Of A Deadman

So sick of the hobos always begging for change
I don't like how I gotta work and
They just sit around and get paid
I hate all of the people who can't drive their cars.
Bitch you better get outta the way
Before I start falling apart
I hate how my wife is always up my ass
She always wants to buy brand new things
But I don't have the cash.
I hate my job, all of my rich friends
I hate everyone to the bitter end.
Nothing turns out right There's no end in sight
I hate my life!
How come I never get laid nice guys always lose.
How could she have another headache
There's always some kind of excuse
I still hate my job, my boss is a dick
"I don't get paid nearly enough
To put up with all of your shit"
I hate my job, all of my rich friends