Verse 1

Four walls, one clock, and a paper crown

Someone says “quiet” — the whole room doubles down

A stapler skids, a coffee cup spins

You try to look stern, then you’re laughing again

Pre-Chorus

They call us trouble from the hallway side

But every deadpan face cracks wide

Chorus

We’re the office bastards, raising hell in our chairs

Trading cheap shots like we haven’t got a care

One long episode, no button to end

We break each other up, then we do it again

Hey! Hey! The whole floor knows our name

We’re the office bastards—and we own this frame

Verse 2

A meeting starts; the whiteboard’s a crime