A worker says

My factory, your office, our world

Like chalk, like cheese, in same mould

Hot my life, cold your looks, it goes on

I know your game, you know my name, it stops there

Constant my moments, newness in your stance

My sweat nourishes you, but I depend on you

To my mind, using mind is your job and it goes on

I know your logic, you know my bids and it stops there

Commonplace is our tension, noticing it not common

Uneasiness in my air, perfume fills your space

Light my heart, heavy your heart and it goes on

I need part of your wealth, you need all of my health

And it stops there