When I was five, I was sent to prison. They called it kindergarten. That was my introduction to the Monday through Friday world. For most of the other kids, especially the girls, it wasn’t prison at all. It was playing and learning and socializing. What made it prison to me was the fact that I could not leave until I served my time.

I didn’t think I would go to college, because more school sounded like more incarceration to me, but I’m glad I went. I met some of my favorite people there, and eventually married one of them. She and I, once we graduated, took jobs in our chosen home of New York City. And work became a new prison, albeit one that paid us for our time served and treated us with some dignity.

The working world we entered back then was a 9 to 5 place. Monday through Friday we rose, showered, dressed, and punched the metaphorical clock. At nights, and on all those blessed weekends, we lived our life. But we no longer need to be constrained by that schedule now, even if we are now too old to fully appreciate it.

It never was my place in that 9 to 5 world. And soon it never will be again.

My mom and dad are always fighting
And it's getting very unexciting
To get a good job you need the proper schooling
Now who the hell do ya think you're fooling

For it's not my place (oh, no!)
No, it's not my place (no, no!)
No, it's not my, not my, not my place
In the 9 to 5 world
And it's not my place
In the 9 to 5 world
It's not my place
In the 9 to 5 world
It's not my place
In the 9 to 5 world

Hanging out with Lester Bangs, you all
And Phil Spector really has it all
Uncle Floyd shows on the T.V
Jack Nicholson, Clint Eastwood, 10CC

Don't wanna be a working stiff 
Lose my identity
Cause when it coms to working 9 to 5 there ain't no place for me
Ain't my reality
To me

Vinnie Scelsa is on the radio
Ramones are hanging out in Kokomo
Roger Corman’s on a talk show
With Allan Arkush and Stephen King, you know