You're on your way to where the job is at.
Wearing boots, coveralls, goves and a hat.
It's **** that floats in an unergroung vat.
You dig that up, but that isn't that.

You remove the old lid and there you find.
A smell that drives you out of your mind.
Digested food of every kind.
The sight of which makes you wish you were blind.

The special function of your work truck,
Is to siphon up all of that muck.
You start up the pump, and with any luck.
The machine will then sloppily ****.

Slurping hungrily at the waste.
And hopefully doing it with all due haste.
Removing a greyish sort of paste.
Feces, that five years, has been encased .

Now with the job almost through.
You suction up the last of the poo.
Replacing the lid but as you do.
Some of the stuff splashes on you.

It gets all over your clothes and your hat.
And all over your face. What's up with that?
Now you are as filthy as an old, greasy rat.
That was chased into a sewer by an ill tempered cat.

So you wipe your face with a rag that you brought.
Just in case that you might get caught.
In the kind of mess that has just been wrought.
A precaution of which, you had thankfully thought.

As that nasty job is finally finished.
And your good cheer is also diminished.
You can take a shower and so be replenished.
To face another day that you will be punished.