What a pity, what a shame
The customer's must be to blame
Why do they ask for what they want?
When my name's written on the front
How can I rotate my wares?
When clearly no-one ever cares
I spend my nights with my accounts
And ordering correct amounts
If I have a little left
My duty is to see it shift
The housewife isn't bright enough
To know how I rotate my stuff
My trade is not what it could be
Why do they always pick on me?
Can they not see I'm in distress?
Could they care? Never less
Perhaps the time is coming near
For considering a new career
Vocation's not eluded me
A Traffic Warden I will be!!!!