Smithers-Jones

Here we go again, it's Monday at last
He's heading for the Waterloo line
To catch the eight a.m. fast; it's usually dead on time
Hope it isn't late, got to be there by nine
Pin stripe suit, clean shirt and tie
Stops off at the corner shop to buy The Times
'Good morning, Smithers-Jones.'
'How's the wife and home?'
'Did you get the car you've been looking for?'

Let me get inside you, let me take control of you
We could have some good times
All this worry will get you down
I'll give you a new meaning to life; I don't think so

Sitting on the train; you're nearly there
You're part of the production line
You're the same as him, you're like tin-sardines
Get out of the pack before they peel you back

Arrive at the office spot on time
The clock on the wall hasn't yet struck nine
'Good Morning, Smithers Jones.'
'The boss wants to see you alone.'
'I hope it's the promotion you've been looking for.'

'Come in, Smithers, old boy.'
'Take a seat, take the weight off your feet.'
'I've some news to tell you.'
'There's no longer a position for you.'
'Sorry, Smithers Jones.'

Put on the kettle and make some tea
It's all a part of feeling groovy
Put on your slippers, turn on the TV
It's all a part of feeling groovy
It's time to relax, now you've worked your arse off
But the only one smilin' is the sun tanned boss
Work, and work, and work, and work till you die
There's plenty more fish in the sea to fry