I have been patient
And now I want to break loose
It is time for leave
But there is work, yet
To be done before the end
There is no rest here
Duties fill my mind
My hands from scrubbing
There is no laughter
There is little joy
Marching under the hot sun.
Day by day by day
Our spirits are stained
We neither wilt nor blossom
Work under pressure
No play-time no fun
Up the hill like Sisyphus
Dread the daily run
