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Ballad of The DC Temp

We-ell, my name don't mean nothing
And my song it is plain
Just another temp worker
On the orange line train.

My agent, she calls me
With a job I can do
I just show up tomorrow
'Cause my bills are all due.

Chorus
And it's gather 'round workers
and lift up your glass
The Lord, he has told me
That this too shall pass.
By faxes, by copy
By Word document
If we swallow our pride, boys,
We will all pay our rent.

We-ell my boss, he ain't nothin'
He is lazy and kind
He sleeps most the day
And his eye he turns blind.

There's a guy here named Ricky
And a guy here named Steve
And they don't do nothin'
But to sit there and breathe.

(Chorus)

We-ell, my sorrows have deepened
As the years they grow sour
I'll drown them completely
At the next happy hour.

I have lost all my hope
I forgot all my dreams
And now I'm just a temp
On a train in DC.

(Chorus)















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post #343
bio: blaine
perma-link
12/23/2005
13:45

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