Fifty Ways to Leave Your Labour
I thought I'd pen a new poem, seeing as I've got some poetry gigs coming up...
A girl left work yesterday without a goodbye - perhaps not totally unexpected, though a little strange. Anyway, I was inspired. Taking my leave from Simon and Garfunkel, I present to you, a poem:
Fifty Ways to Leave Your Labour
You have certain expectations when you get your first degree
But there are one stars in McDonalds who must get paid more than me.
I think that my line manager was born in '93.
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour.
I’ve got a dozen colleagues, but I don’t have any friends
I wrote a resignation poem I might just send, except
I might be dead already, or is this only a dead end?
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour.
You just slip out the back, Jack
Make a new plan, Stan
You don't need to be coy, Roy
Update your CV
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don’t need to discuss much
Just drop off your security key
And get yourself free.
They promised travel, thrills and status; I got RSI and spam.
The boss thinks he’s a genius, but of course he’s not - I am.
But frankly, Mr. Shankly, I just don’t give a damn
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour.
Who says you need to show commitment in order to succeed?
Death by a thousand paper-cuts is just no way to bleed.
So what if I’ve a shoe habit and three cats to feed?
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour.
Use the emergency slide, Clyde
Ice it all on a cake, Jake
Just pretend to be dead, Fred
Shouldn’t hurt your CV
Get your P45, Clive
Wrench yourself from the hive mind
Have an exit interview, Lou
Nick a load of stationery.
You wanted fifty ways to quit your job, and I’ve only just begun
But it’s my new work philosophy to leave a job half-done
At least I’ve had a few ideas, did Paul Simon think of one?
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour
But I can’t be bothered.
A girl left work yesterday without a goodbye - perhaps not totally unexpected, though a little strange. Anyway, I was inspired. Taking my leave from Simon and Garfunkel, I present to you, a poem:
Fifty Ways to Leave Your Labour
You have certain expectations when you get your first degree
But there are one stars in McDonalds who must get paid more than me.
I think that my line manager was born in '93.
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour.
I’ve got a dozen colleagues, but I don’t have any friends
I wrote a resignation poem I might just send, except
I might be dead already, or is this only a dead end?
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour.
You just slip out the back, Jack
Make a new plan, Stan
You don't need to be coy, Roy
Update your CV
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don’t need to discuss much
Just drop off your security key
And get yourself free.
They promised travel, thrills and status; I got RSI and spam.
The boss thinks he’s a genius, but of course he’s not - I am.
But frankly, Mr. Shankly, I just don’t give a damn
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour.
Who says you need to show commitment in order to succeed?
Death by a thousand paper-cuts is just no way to bleed.
So what if I’ve a shoe habit and three cats to feed?
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour.
Use the emergency slide, Clyde
Ice it all on a cake, Jake
Just pretend to be dead, Fred
Shouldn’t hurt your CV
Get your P45, Clive
Wrench yourself from the hive mind
Have an exit interview, Lou
Nick a load of stationery.
You wanted fifty ways to quit your job, and I’ve only just begun
But it’s my new work philosophy to leave a job half-done
At least I’ve had a few ideas, did Paul Simon think of one?
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour
There must be fifty ways to leave your labour
But I can’t be bothered.