Every morning good Damocles wakes up
And after breakfast from a drive-through bag
Salutes the time-clock with a merry ding
From a little card that records his time
He drives his forklift or his cubby-desk
And sorts each pallet or computer code
Into their places in the secular scheme
The minor chain of being more-or-less
Until a meeting when, and with great sorrow,
A Suit tells all, “we’re shutting down tomorrow.
Oh, the company still exists (and what could be finer?),
But we’re sending all your jobs away to China.”
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC
Every morning good Damocles wakes up
And after breakfast from a drive-through bag
Salutes the time-clock with a merry ding
From a little card that records his time
He drives his forklift or his cubby-desk
And sorts each pallet or computer code
Into their places in the secular scheme
The minor chain of being more-or-less
Until a meeting when, and with great sorrow,
A Suit tells all, “we’re shutting down tomorrow.
Oh, the company still exists (and what could be finer?),
But we’re sending all your jobs away to China.”