Wake up at dawn, alarm like a siren wail, Shuffle to the kitchen, brew that bitter ale. Suit up in gray, join the horde on the train, Brains on autopilot, feeling no pain. Boss man’s a lich, sucking life from your veins, “Team-building exercise?” More like chains. Emails piling up like bodies in the street, The apocalypse hit—it’s called “corporate elite”! Chorus: Zombie shuffle, through the cubicle maze, Dead eyes staring at screens in a haze. Apocalypse now, but no one’s alarmed, We’re all undead, just overworked and disarmed. Moan for your paycheck, groan for your break, Bite back the boredom before you awake. Zombie shuffle, it’s already here, Living the nightmare, year after year! Verse 2: Water cooler whispers, gossip like a bite, “Who got promoted? Who vanished last night?” PowerPoint rituals, slides full of lies, Pretend you’re engaged, hide the dead in your eyes. Overtime ambush, no escape from the grind, Family’s a memory, left far behind. HR’s the hunter, with forms to ensnare, Sign here for your soul—oh, wait, it’s not there! Bridge: (Slow, dragging tempo with building frustration) They promised the end times with fire and rage, But it’s TPS reports flipping the page. No hero survivors, just endless undead, Chained to your desk till you’re out of your head. Barricade the boardroom? Nah, join the feast, On dreams and ambition—yum, at least! Why fight the horde when you’re one of the pack? Embrace the shuffle, there’s no turning back. Chorus (Outro, ramp up to a chaotic wail): Zombie shuffle, through the cubicle maze, Dead eyes staring at screens in a haze. Apocalypse now, in fluorescent glow, We’re all infected, don’t you know? Moan for your bonus, groan for your raise, Bite the hand that feeds—it’s all a phase. Zombie shuffle, it’s already won, The end of the world? Honey, it’s just begun!
