Kill...Kill...Kill

i'm a cog in the industrial wheel. day in day out i work. cant say that its any different from any other person who fills the offices in my building. as i sit in my office, i stare out into the jetty that’s smack right in front of me and i dream. its always a mad house here at work, but even then i still take the time to stone. from my lil room, i can see all my other workmates scrambling all over the place. just like thousands of hairy Mongolians pillaging a village. burning and killing, a job for a Mongol marauder is never finished. lots of people to kill, lots of places to invade. camels going berserk. loads of grunting. hairy chested Mongols barking out orders to advance. there’s only so much grunting i can take.
time for me to take the service lift down to basement car park. i have a quick smoke before i go back upstairs.

there’s a battle to fight, and i'm back to barking orders to my grunts...