I'd scanned the Sits Vac but
I should have worn my specs
A little bit disappointed
At what happened next
Support worker at M.I .8
I'd thought the advert said
Just work away steadily I thought
Just keep a level head
And maybe there's the chance
That in the bye and bye
I could work my way up
To the position of a SuperSpy.
Imagine my upset that
On my very first day
I wasn't working for M.I.8
But the M18 Motorway
A bit Of a status comedown
But I work there on my own
And extract a quiet revenge by
Judicious use of the traffic cone
There's a certain satisfaction
In making hurried people linger
And I casually accept their use
Of the upraised second finger.
At times I stand there watching
At attention and mute
And every now again give
The odd ironical salute
It's not exactly espionage
Not exactly GCHQ
But there's a quiet reward
In the work that I do.
It can be lonely and stressful
And requires a certain dedication
To lay out those lines of cones
That cause anger and frustration
And so divert so many minds
From the worsening situation
As our politicians bugger up
This once proud and glorious nation
.
