Pay day has come once again,
So a work-week's set to end
And I can try to pretend
I live a luxurious life.
The days I can do such are brief,
But they still offer some relief
From the constructed work-week's grief
And any workplace strife.
Of course, I will do it again.
The need for money finds no end
So long as any still pretend
To have an easy life.
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