Customer Service

It was the work ethic that did it. He just couldn’t get enough. He would sit for hours and hours Just contemplating the stuff Until suddenly it was home time, Getting on for half past four, And he knew that in the morning They'd have delivered plenty more. After nearly a week they found him Slouched dead in his swivel chair; He'd been hidden by all the work Piled up in mountains there. They gave him a long service medal Posthumously I should think And following his last wishes scattered His ashes by his favourite old golf link. Thus an illustrious career was ended Without a hint of any shame For the company couldn't afford Any slurs to be cast on its name. And all the work that he'd not started? They just shovelled into a bin Knowing if any was important A client would write again