I was ever most faithful to my labour,
A duty that I never paid to man:
And even now, I am stripped of this favour,
No more am I my workplace's loyal fan.

I wish I could say our romance has cooled off,
That I'm not stirred by spreadsheets' disarray,
Alas, those items firmly must be ruled off,
And here the reasons be for this decay:

I was profoundly lucky in employment:
I worshipped bosses justly - they were gods.
I worked hard, in this toil I found enjoyment,
Because my contract listed all the odds.

I did not sign to slavery, dear Master,
I did not sign my health and bloom away,
I did not sign that you could be a b@st@rd
When things were simply not going your way,

I did not sign to poverty and worry,
I did not sign to papers gath'ring dust,
I did not sign that you cannot be sorry,
For I have rights, and note this down you must:

I did not sign to shoulder all these burdens,
Because they are not written on the page!
You cannot simply smile, and draw the curtains,
You cannot make us objects of your rage

When you yourself do run the ship so poorly!
I pity you, but pity is not love;
And thus I sign myself, proudly, and sorely,

A woman pushed to crashing by your shove.