歌词
(Verse 1) In this fluorescent-lit maze, I tread the worn-out floor, A silent observer, my heart yearning for more. The walls whisper secrets, the photocopier drones, Yet management’s eyes remain shut, their hearts turned to stone.
(Pre-Chorus) We’re the unsung prophets, the visionaries unseen, Painting futures on sticky notes, our ideas pristine. They say “teamwork,” but it’s every person for themselves, And the water cooler gossips like a thousand tiny bells.
(Chorus) Oh, the invisible echoes, they haunt my days, In this cubicle confinement, my spirit sways. Managers sip lattes, blind to our strife, While we drown in memos and the hum of office life.
(Verse 2) I’ve glimpsed the right way, a beacon through the haze, But my voice is a whisper, lost in the corporate maze. Bob from accounting, with his ledger-bound eyes, Counts beans but ignores the forest, where innovation lies.
(Pre-Chorus) We’re the unsung prophets, the visionaries unseen, Painting futures on sticky notes, our ideas pristine. They say “teamwork,” but it’s every person for themselves, And the water cooler gossips like a thousand tiny bells.
(Chorus) Oh, the invisible echoes, they haunt my days, In this cubicle confinement, my spirit sways. Managers sip lattes,
They say “teamwork,” but it’s every person for themselves, And the water cooler gossips like a thousand tiny bells.
(Chorus) Oh, the invisible echoes, they haunt my days, In this cubicle confinement, my spirit sways. Managers sip lattes, blind to our strife, While we drown in memos and the hum of office life.
(Bridge) Linda, oh Linda, queen of the passive gaze, Her eyes scan spreadsheets, missing the innovation blaze. And I, a pixelated rebel, pixelated dreams, Yearn for recognition beyond the flickering screens.
(Chorus) Oh, the invisible echoes, they haunt my days, In this cubicle confinement, my spirit sways. Managers sip lattes, blind to our strife, While we drown in memos and the hum of office life.
(Outro) So here’s to the unheard, the visionaries unseen, We’ll etch our ideas on the walls, in invisible ink so keen. And when the clock chimes five, we’ll rise from our chairs, Carry our echoes beyond cubicles, into the open air.
While we drown in memos and the hum of office life.
(Outro) So here’s to the unheard, the visionaries unseen, We’ll etch our ideas on the walls, in invisible ink so keen. And when the clock chimes five, we’ll rise from our chairs, Carry our echoes beyond cubicles, into the open air.
