Monday, May 23, 2011

Day 23 - 'Poor Jerry'


A pretty ridiculous little ditty today.  very rubato, as it's mostly a speak-sung, character piece.  Light and frolic-y feel in the underscore.



I’ve a meeting at Noon, at my local saloon,
It’s a chance to enhance my career.
And this meeting at lunch, has my gut in a bunch,
And my heart palpitating with fear.

Although I know that I’m quite the pro,
At my job, I don’t fumble or flub.
I grew scared upon learning what the meeting’s concerning,
‘Cuz I’ve found out my boss wants to start a ‘Fight Club’…

I don’t want to punch my co-workers,
I don’t want to fight the staff,
I maybe, at times, wish to punch my employer,
But if offered to act or to watch, well, I’d voyeur.

I don’t want to fight my co-workers,
This jerk has gone out of his head.
It’s not that I’m not psyched to get in that ring…
But I’d rather piss fire, instead.

Most men out there maybe wish for this Hell,
The shot to take shots at their boss.
But the guy I’m to fight wears size XXXL
And has surely medaled in at least one dwarf toss.

Spoken:  Dwarf toss.  It’s that thing where a group of larger men compete to see how far they can throw a dwarf.  Yes, it’s a thing…

The opportunity to get ahead’s a-heading my direction,
But our bigwig’s found a newfound love for natural selection.
He is forcing the whole work force here to dance his little dance,
And if I pass it by, he’ll pass my application with no glance.
So, I’ll sew it up, I’ll clinch this occupational advancement,
Even if it means I have to take a pill for male enhancement…

Spoken:  Those are steroids…right?

I don’t want to fight my co-workers,
Our manager’s out of his mind!
And now every time that he looks cross the room,
I’ll know deep inside that it’s safe to assume,
That in spite of that smile he is plotting my doom…
But to get my promotion slip signed,
I would even fight Jerry…
He’s blind.


Thank for joining me for the day, and I'll see you tomorrow with another SOTD!


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