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Minotaur Lyrics

Oil slick in my dinner
It makes me sick, in the air anyhow
And the dream upon my lips
Is getting thinner with each day
And yet I'm getting paid

I get sick at my work everyday
There is no cure but to stay away, without pay
And the horns upon my head
Are getting thicker with each day
I take my meals here
I sleep in a maze, alone

Men get sick at their work each and every day
There ain't no cure but to stay,
Stay home today, go to the beach instead
And their dreams, in their heads
Cannot be found in the maze
Or so they say.
Song Info
Submitted by
belsen7 On Aug 28, 2013
2 Meanings

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Cover art for Minotaur lyrics by Thee Oh Sees

In 2008, I left my job in Boston and moved to San Francisco to write my novel. Due to finances, I moved back to Boston and returned to my job in 2009. I grew to hate it. I became obsessed with all the things I hated about living in that city and working at that job. My wife and I moved back to Oakland in 2012. I kept the same job and went on sabbatical several months at a time, living in a loft apartment, working on my novel. I didn't get paid a dime for my time in California, but I finished my novel, When I heard this song - around the time of my re-writes in late 2014 - I was listening to a piece of art that captured the essence of my existence. It's not everyday that I'm able to identify so closely with an artist or a piece of art. This song told my story. John Dwyer is a gentleman and a scholar. Thee Oh Sees are a wonderful band of musicians.

@PatMC It's so good to find comments like this from time to time, ones that give a little personal back story. Congratulations on your novel! I've had my fair share of terrible jobs as well and I can't help but smile every time I hear this song, it's just all too realistic and weirdly funny at the same time. It never fails to cheer me up and take the edge off at least a little bit. Just remember to go to the beach instead once in a while!

Cover art for Minotaur lyrics by Thee Oh Sees

I worked from home for over two years, and have now been forced back into the office under false pretenses. So now I sit there, with a respirator on, feeling like this is a further-from and not a furtherment of anything I want out of life. Even if I'm paid, it sucks. Maybe it doesn't matter as much as I've self-instilled, even aside from the adversity of a pandemic. I sit there and think to myself, "this isn't living."

 
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