Fast Food Frustration

I am so exausted,
My head aches,
From taking all these orders...
Screaming kids,
And foreign cash,
From across the border...
Speak up dammit,
I can't here you,
Over your diesel suckin' car...
Just pull up,
You f*cking bastard!
Wait! You drove too far!
I want to yell,
And throw the food,
At those bucktooth hoes...
With their 80's hair,
Their 70's glasses,
And their 60's clothes...
I make the sandwich,
Collect the cash,
And start to cook the fries...
Hey there's hair in that!
It's the wrong amount!
Gah! There's grease in my eyes!!!
Please let me count my drawer,
Get the last person,
And leave the place...
Sh!t! That's great...
Another car pulled up,
And now screaming in my face...
That's the last straw,
I quit this job,
And they can go to hell!
But I'll leave this job,
For five bucks more,
And go work at Taco Bell...