Those old men and those young women
dressed in suits to disguise their lives,
walk through the lobby with cash in hand.
They close themselves behind the doors,
returning to the only place they hate
but they need it like a stain hidden inside.

All of you are going down, going down, going down,
all of you are going down for your work, for your pay
then you get back up and it starts all over again.

Eyes looking around, never making contact
with the others in the very same situation,
struggling for a chance to breath in this place
and those old men touch those buttons,
taking those young women to another floor.

Turn on the lights off from last night,
get down to the business you're here for.
Ignore what you do just to get on home.

All of you are going down, going down, going down,
all of you are going down for your work, for your pay
then you get back up and it starts all over again.

Those old men and those young women
take another ride, closed behind those doors,
one last time before they get to go home.
They walk away from that place they hate
but they need it like an instauration,
because, love, all of them are going down.

a/n: I would love to hear your interpretation on this poem and I would also love a new title. :) Also, I was walking around, singing the "all of you" part and it is supposed to sound childish, opposite of the rest of the poem. Thank you!