You can call me mr snitch,�
I won’t take offence.
Forever watching what you do,
You really have no defence.
Reporting directly to my boss,
Who happens to be my lover.
You cannot win, we know your dim.
Your making extra bother.
You watered down the paints,
There really was no point.
Your makin work for you and me.
So now it drips so easily.
We know you don’t understand,
And neither do we too.
Your English French romanian,
Leaves us feeling blue.
You could learn the language,
Instead of this pigeon stuff.
Your constantly groaning,
Do you have the huff?
Your working in this country,
Perhaps it’s a mistake.
Hasty hirings, no firings.
The boss has got the huff!�
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