Of Toil, And Promnesia

I wake up, I sigh, dismayed
Another day to pour it all down the drain
I lie down, I've long lost count
Of all the years that feel like yesterday

There is a void behind my sunken eyes
Blurred thoughts of my passions
And of my dreams far beyond the event horizon
The soul shredder, the great unmaker
Of all that I could become

To be a cog in an ouroboric death-machine
The latest update is to eat
The ones that make it function
Ravenous hunger rips all asunder
Write-off the ghosts as a necessary sacrifice

No qualms with the concept of failure
No cries for the absence of silver spoons
This adversity is a recurring itch
I've long scratched to a gaping wound

Of toil and promnesia is another day
We're forced to throw away
One more defeat to rinse and repeat
For the scraps we've been tossed
Have been given on loan
Is this all there is?

I keep searching for greener pastures
There can't only be desolation
Where is the pay-off
The fruit of my labor
Perpetuation of desperation
One step forward, a thousand back
The fucking stress of it all
Gives me a heart attack

My grey matter's oil
Now light it aflame
The corporate combustion engulfing my brain
I've long been at end of my shortened rope
So kick out the chair
Because I'm all out of hope
I'm all out of hope

Of toil and promnesia is another day
We're forced to throw away
One more defeat to rinse and repeat
As we work to the bone digging our eternal home