Occasionally I manage to write a filksong. (Most of those I’ve written are
available mixed in among hundreds of others from the SWIL filk
page.) In this particular case, the fact that the original doesn’t
rhyme makes filking it ridiculously easy; further verses (and revisions to
the current ones) are welcome.
to the tune of Woody Guthrie’s “Plane Wreck at Los Gatos (Deportees)”
Profits are down and the market is drying
Software is rotting in big warehouse stores
Time for a product to make us some money
We’ll work long hours to see it gets done.
Goodbye to my Mary; farewell, little Shirley,
I’m coming home late, and I’m going back early;
We don’t have a name when we work the big mainframe
All they will call us will be employees.
My father, he worked on an IBM mainframe
Made lots of money, retired in style
My friends and my neighbors all work in the Valley
Never have time to enjoy all they make
Some are consultants; they’re not like employees
Contract expires, it’s time to move on
Six hundred companies looking for workers
Who’ll never insist on a benefit plan.
The project is running a month over deadline
Layoffs are rumored, morale’s getting low
Who are these zombies who’ve worked eighty hours?
Paid just for forty, ’cause they’re employees.
Is this the best way we can meet all our deadlines?
Is this the best way to write quality code?
To stare at a screen though our brains have stopped working,
To work at the cost of our families, our lives
We finished the project; it’s gone out the door now,
Forgotten are all of the bugs and the strife
Our profits will soar and we’ll buy new Mercedes
And soon we’ll start working on 1.01…
Jed Hartman <firstname.lastname@example.org>