Dust off the jars

And put them away

Picking up loose rubbish

Rearranging all day

I’m selling my hands for seven an hour

Accents and languages –

Trying to communicate

With ignorant tourists

From every country and state

I’m selling my patience for seven an hour

Walk round the store

Kick dustmice under shelves

Walking so long my shoes

Seem to move themselves

I’m selling my feet for seven an hour

Counting out money

Remember everything

Answer a few questions

As the both telephones ring

I’m selling my mind for seven an hour

Pretend to be cheerful

Wear a smile as my mask

They say emotions are the soul

What more can they ask?

Because I’m selling my soul at seven an hour