'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the plant,
The sound of cracking fiber, bowing, bent and slant...
Crickle-clackle, crickle-clackle, the sound that we hear,
'Cause Drahi told us to tape it up there...
We have no more bonus, no holiday cheer...
not even toilet paper to throw in the air...
We've lost some sick, and holiday time,
To add to the executives another penny or dime...
The presents under the tree this year will be quite small,
As all of our investors' bank accounts fall...
As we watch our stock price slide and plummet,
He will have some 'splainin' to do at the next summit...
"But alas", He'll say, "there are still cuts to be made!!"
I really wish I hadn't-a-stayed,
Because every day they keep us afraid...
And as our minds become mush,
At the more that they push...
To keep you in your place,
As they clear out the space...
And when there's nothing left,
Not even so much as a paper clip...
You will then be handed your dreaded pink slip
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT