by Rish Chaudhuri

Tommy drinks whiskey on the rocks
He just lost his job
the bear market’s looking rough…so rough
Gina trades currency all day
Working for the bank, she’s a victim of employment cuts
We’re in a rut

We’ve got to hold on to what we’ve got
But we got to sell the penthouse
That we only just bought
We’ve got each other and our severance pay – we’ll give it a shot

Whooah, life’s not fair
Wooah, Livin on welfare
Take my hand, let’s go to a job fair
Wooooah, Livin on welfare

Tommy’s got his Blackberry in hand
Taking advantage of contacts
But all of them are also fucked, so fucked
Their portfolio’s value’s going away
Gina cries in the night
Tommy whispers Gold’s still okay, okay

Weve got to hold on to what weve got
But we got to sell the penthouse
That we only just bought
Weve got each other and our severance pay – we’ll give it a shot

Whooah, life’s not fair
Wooah, Livin on welfare
Take my hand, let’s go to a job fair
Wooooah, Livin on welfare

We’ve got to hold on, ready or not

Despite being on welfare, we despise those knock offs

Whooah, life’s not fair
Wooah, Livin on welfare
Take my hand, let’s go to a job fair
Wooooah, Livin on welfare…