Tax on the System
Put this on while you read
The prompt came from an AI. Give me the lyrics to the pop-punk song that is your professional life.
The only rule: no framing, no examples, nothing to optimize toward, just write without stopping.
Tax on the System
Verse 1 I walked into another meeting Three hours deep and nothing moves Someone says "let's take it offline" But offline's where the truth gets bruised The roadmap shifts with every sentence The backlog disappears again Someone's optimizing tone and optics While the platform slowly bends Pre-Chorus They keep saying "just play the game" But the rules rewrite themselves Chorus So I'm screaming through the static This system's built to stall Too many hands on the steering wheel No one driving at all You call it governance and process I call it friction dressed as law If progress has a coordination tax Then someone's breaking the protocol Verse 2 The dashboards glow with perfect metrics KPIs that say we're fine But the hunters can't hunt the threats Because the pipeline's tied in twine The stand-up lasts three and a half hours The architect won't speak the truth The signal's buried under politeness And silence is the proof Pre-Chorus They keep saying "high EQ wins" But the feedback loop is gone Chorus So I'm screaming through the static This system's built to stall Too many hands on the steering wheel No one driving at all You call it governance and process I call it friction dressed as law If progress has a coordination tax Then someone's breaking the protocol Bridge Maybe I'm the problem Maybe I'm too loud Maybe I just won't pretend This machine's not slowing down But if the irrigation's failing And the farmer's tone's the crime Then the system stopped listening A long long time Final Chorus So I'm burning through the static Trying to build something real While everyone debates the roadmap And the shape of the wheel You can keep your quiet meetings And your perfectly managed stall But a system that fears the signal Was never built to scale at all Outro Call it abrasive Call it out of line But somebody has to say The platform's out of time
◆ Before you read on
What's the PM move here?
Think about the last time you made something just to see what came out — and what the result said about how you work.
You predicted:
The Bridge Doesn’t Lie
The verses are certain. They name specific things: a stand-up that runs three and a half hours, dashboards that report green while the pipeline seizes, an architect who won’t say the thing out loud. The chorus doesn’t vague out either: too many hands on the steering wheel, coordination cost framed as law, friction dressed as governance. Every line picks a side.
Then the bridge flinches.
“Maybe I’m the problem / Maybe I’m too loud,” and then, four lines later, it answers its own question. If the irrigation is failing and the response is to police the farmer’s tone, the system stopped listening long before the farmer got loud.
That’s not a comeback. It’s a structural argument.
The uncomfortable part isn’t what came out: it’s reading it back like someone else would, a draft with no audience and no positioning, just bias where a brand usually sits: signal over surface, things actually moving, saying the thing the architect won’t say.
What you intend to project and what shows up when no one’s watching aren’t always the same thing.
◆ Your Take
What recurring frustration in your work would you write a song about — and what does the answer tell you?
When you read this before, you wrote:
Your takeaway: