Every time I go to work I die a little.
Every day I feel a berk and wonder why a little.
Whene'er I ask a question of those who're in the know
They say "just leave it with me,"
When I want "yes" or "no."
When we're there
There's such an air of doom about it.
Pervading each and every room
There is a gloom about it.
Watching years undermine a
That's really just minor.
Every time I go to work.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
With fulsome apologies to the great man himself... the problem is that the originals are so strong that once you get an idea that gets hooked onto the lyric the hack writer's just along for the ride.