| I went up for my interview on the 4th day of July
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| The personnel man he questioned me, until I nearly cried
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| Made me fill in forms, until I shook with fear
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| About the colour of my toilet roll and if my cousins queer
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| Here’s your gold watch and the shackles for your chains
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| And your piece of paper, to say you left here sane
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| And if you’ve a son who wants a good career
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| Just get him to sign on the dotted line and work for 50 years
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| He asked me how many jobs id had before
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| He nearly had a heart attack when I answered four
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| Four jobs of 20 years or more, this can never be
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| We only take on men, who work on until they die
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| Here’s your gold watch and the shackles for your chains
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| And your piece of paper, to say you left here sane
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| And if you’ve a son who wants a good career
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| Just get him to sign on the dotted line and work for 50 years
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| He took me outside to where the gravestones stand in line
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| This is where we bury them, in quickstone and in lime
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| And if you’re going to work for us, this you must agree
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| That if you’re going to die, please do it during tea break
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| Here’s your gold watch and the shackles for your chains
|
| And your piece of paper, to say you left here sane
|
| And if you’ve a son who wants a good career
|
| Just get him to sign on the dotted line and work for 50 years
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| This story that you’ve hear, you may think rather queer
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| But it is the truth you’ll be surprised to hear
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| I did not want some job up on the board
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| I just wanted to take a broom and sweep the bloody floor |