1I went up for my interviewOn the fourth day of JulyThe personnel man he questioned mentil I nearly criedHe made me fill in formsUntil I shook with fearAbout the colour of my toilet rollAnd if my cousin’s queer.(Chorus )Here’s your gold watchAnd shackles for your chainsAnd your piece of paperTo say you’ve left here sane.And if you’ve a sonWho wants a good careerJust get him to sign on the dotted lineAnd work for fifty years.2He asked me how manyJobs I’d had beforeHe nearly had a heart attackWhen I answered fourFour jobs in twenty yearsThis can never beWe only take on menWho work until they die.(Chorus )3He took me outside to whereThe gravestones stood in lineThis is where we bury themIn quickstone and in lime.And if you’re going to work for usThis you must agreeIf you’re going to diePlease do it during tea-break.(Chorus )4This story that I tell youIt may seem rather queerBut it is the truthYou will be surprised to hearI wasn’t asking for noJob upon the boardI only wanted to take a broomAnd sweep the bloody floor.(Chorus )
Accueil > Chansons > Watchchain Blues
Watchchain Blues
anonyme
Of « Unemployed Blues ». Text anonymous (≤1981). Tune : « ? ».
Paru aussi dans : South London Anarchist Group (ed.). — Anarchist song book, to tunes you know. — London [UK] : South London Anarchist Group, [1981] (p. 49-50).