Ergonomic Deluxe

Here are the lyrics to a song that I’ve been working on lately:
Johnny slaves in a windowless office to earn his minimal pay
He walks in at 9AM and sits there through the day
John sits on a cheap old chair,
missing a wheel and near threadbare,
While his boss’s ass is massaged and cared
for in an ergonomic deluxe air.
About whom do we care?
Now he’s there til 10 at night working on the big report
But who’s going to all get the credit when the work has run its course?
John doesn’t get paid any overtime.
He’s treated like a leper mime.
The stock is set to climb and climb,
but John’s options aren’t worth a dime.
Who’s doing time?
John, why are you still stuck in that place?
Get free, go fly through outer space
and leave your cares, forget your blues,
until your rent is due.
Now John just spends his days in the office just surfing the web
No one seems to care as the workforce flows and ebbs
Although they’ve firewalled away the porn,
and read his emails just for scorn,
put a claim on his first-born,
John’s not sitting there forlorn.
He’s stlll unshorn
So why are you still stuck in that place?
Get free, go fly through outer space
and leave your cares, forget your blues,
until…