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You Work To Pay Me
You work to pay me. every hour you put in, every boring meeting or shift you suffer through, it's all leading up to this—handing it over to me, your princess lucy. you clock in, you clock out, and the whole time, you're just building up that paycheck for me. it's cute, really; your whole life is about funding mine. you work so hard, piggy, getting up early and dealing with all those people who don't even know what a pathetic little subby you are deep down. all that effort, all those long days, and it's not for you—it's for me, so i get to spend it on whatever i want, like shoes, coffee, a new dress. you work to pay princess lucy, and you'll do it again tomorrow, because that's who you are: my little paypiggy, my wallet, mine.
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