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An poem

 

Today as always

It cannot be stopped

Not with winsome aplomb

Or a cash winning smile

You try and you will fail

The march of industry goes on

 

Do not be afraid, little one

It is industry that you seek

For comfort, for dinner, for jobs

For the periodicals we read

And the bottoms we penetrate

 

It must be said, far and wide

There is no hope for you

Not without the wonder of industry

It comes and it will never go

The drumbeats will sound

The march of industry goes on

 

You will have your idle life torn from your bosom

Lawn chairs will be burned

Gas grills thrown into eager dumpsters

You are your family are ready

Forced to work on the factor floor

Peanuts on the dollar is your pay

 

The ass of the American worker

Needs instruction, correction, penetration

We the bosses will provide

You will drive the gears with

Blood, sweat, and filthy pointless tears

The march of industry goes on

 

Submit to what you know is true

You cannot fight nor resist its call

This is what we are here for

Get down in that boiler room

Prepare to live down there forever

Driving the gears of industry

 

You will have no love, no family, no home

Your ass will belong to the man with the gun

Submit, go with the man, give it up willingly

You cannot escape, the man will come

He will mount you from behind

The march of undustry goes on

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