Sunday, December 25, 2005

My apologies to W.H. Auden

Dedicated to all those who cannot resist. May God provide them with a backbone...

Some say that we MBAs have no souls.
That some live in mansions, while some live in holes.
We still have no souls, my dear, we still have no souls.

Once we had a life and we thought it was our own
Then came B school and now we have an educational loan
We do not have a life now, my dear, we do not have a life.

In the college yard there grows an old tree.
Set in concrete it can never be free,
We are like that, my dear, we are like that.

Placecom banged the table and said,
If the company asks you then go with them to bed.
And we said gladly, my dear, we said gladly.

Went to an office to sit on a chair,
where no work was ever done year after year.
So what do I do today, my dear, what do I today?

Came to a BTL the speaker got up and said,
You are our future thought leaders you'll be our head.
Instead we were forced to give him head, my dear, instead we were forced to give him head.

Thought I heard thunder rumbling in the sky.
It was just the dean and his bag of lies.
All that's in his mind, my dear. All that's left of his mind.

Saw a man on a saturday go for a swim.
saw my life and boy, was it grim.
He wasn't an MBA my dear. He most certainlly wasn't.

Went down to the harbour and stood upon the quay.
Nothing there that I could see.
Trained to be blind, my dear, trained to be blind.

Walked through a park, felt quite at unease.
Shit, this was the first time in ten years I was walking through a park please.
What a shit of a life, my dear, what a shit of a life.

Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
Nine hundred CA's, one window, and one whore.
The whore was me, my dear, the whore was me.

Stood upon a plain to reclaim my life, my turf.
This fucking MBA has just made me a serf.
I got to do my assignment, my dear. I got to do my assignment.