Pots and Plans

December 18, 2009

Sung by staff as they are all pilling out of The Unit / site vans and in to The Hawk after a hard week’s work in their various departments. It has the feel of Food Glorious Food as they march in single file. It is a pastiche of the unhappy housewife sentiments. The diggers are first:

THE DIGGERS:

We spend all week long digging barrow loads of soil
Piling it all on the heap of the barrow-like spoil
It’s the spoil of the past that we dig from the ground
It’s the tomb of the memories that we never found
We destroy all we touch for the knowledge we crave
Now does that seem a fit way for us to behave?

Now the week’s work is done and done is the toil
Whatever lies to be found must remain in the soil
For now we’re content and underground we’ll not pry
For now we just want to drink the pub dry !

ALL:

All we see all week long is old pots and plans
We are tied to the workplace with our head in our hands
No thanks and low pay for the work that we do
Now our time is our own for just one day or two

THE DRAWING OFFICE:

We spend all week long drawing pot after pot
And scanning in site plans and sections a lot
Though our work is not physical: it’s all in the eye
We sometimes get twinges of faint RSI
We all had our dreams to satisfy our need
For artistic fulfillment: a sad state indeed

Now the week’s work is done and we’ve put down our pens
Anyone who wants a drawing done had best think again
We’ve had all we can take now we’re off to The Hawk
No more DOBS no more pots no more plans no more work !

ALL:

All we see all week long is old pots and plans
We are tied to the workplace with our head in our hands
No thanks and low pay for the work that we do
Now our time is our own for just one day or two

The two groups come together briefly as they all wait at the bar and repeat the chorus again together

Now the week’s work is done and …

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