March Of The Minions

Tied to my desk
After seven years of convenience
I think that I’ve finally felt
I think that I’ve found myself
I think that I’ve been sold out
Working for a madhouse
Quick doc. put on your smock
his heart has stopped, his jaw’s locked
He’s fallen from his penthouse home
His nerves have exploded
When I finally got there
It looks as though they beat me here
It had been overlooked
Not quite like in a book
I think I’ve been sold out
Working for a madhouse