"Bosses Don't Seem Right": A Christmas Monologue

The things all wrong (I sez to im)
Now look, theres this ere Monday, Jim,
Comes before Christmas.  Be a toff
An lest us ave the Monday off.
E ums an ars.  An then hes got
To talk a lot of silly rot
Abut ow business binds a man;
An e dont quite see ow e can
Afford to give me Monday in,
Seein hell lose a lot of tin
Under our capitlistic plan
Which sort of binds a business man
Lest his competitors was bound
To give the Monday all around.

If but (e sez) they would agree
To let the trade ave Monday free
Then e would do it.  There you are!
Shows ow Democracys a bar.
Its competition, dont you see,
That robs a man of liberty.
But, under Socialism . . . Wot?
Now, listen, I aint talkin rot.
I know that es me boss.  But look,
Our scheme of Goverments all crook.

Now, under Socialism, see,
If I said, "I want Monday free!"
Why, under right conditions, then,
Theyd treat their men like they was men;
An seein it was Christmas week,
We would nt ave to go an seek
No favors.  Wed just tell em flat:
"Were takin Monday; an thats that!"
Wot?  Bosses?  . . .  Well, I spose thered be
This, wot you call, Bureaucracy.

To rule us.  Yes; peraps there might;
An as you say, it dont seem right
That they should want to boss a man . . . .
But wot about his Fascist plan?

Now, under that, wed say, "look ere
Us fellers wants this Monday clear."
An, bein reasonable like,
Blokes would nt ave to call a strike
To get their way . . . . Well, I suppose
Theres be Dictators -- coves like those
To fed a coot on castor oil
If they decided not to toil
On Monday.  That seems pretty tough,
All systems seems to treat men rough.