The old cow hasn’t given me the job
Well I’m not surprised, so I’m not upset
If she was homeless she’d not get two bob
Off me, the heartless bitch, with her own set
Of fawning two-faced bleating sheep, their wet
Brown noses stinking as they whinge quietly
Behind her pied backside, where her tail swats
The buzzing flies that irritate, like me
The truth-tellers, not managed easily
Management is a dirty word, they’re slobs
Who take the pay and moo orders, then get
Plenty of cud to chew, real noisily
Plenty of methane gas from out her gob
The hard workers are the ones she forgets
Thur 27 Nov 2008
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