I love my office and its location.
  I hate to have to go on vacation.
  I love my furniture, drab and gray,
  and the paper that piles up every day.

  I love my chair in my padded cell.
  There's nothing else I love so well.
  I love to work among my peers.
  I love their leers and jeers and sneers.

  I love my computer and its software;
  I hug it often though it don't care.
  I love each program and every file,
  I try to understand once in a while.

  I'm happy to be here, I am, I am;
  I'm the happiest slave of my Uncle Sam.
  I love this work; I love these chores.
  I love the meetings with deadly bores.