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The thing's all wrong (I sez to ‘im) Now look, there's this ‘ere Monday, Jim, Comes before Christmas. Be a toff An' lest us ‘ave the Monday off. ‘E ‘ums an' ‘ars. An' then he's got To talk a lot of silly rot Abut ‘ow business binds a man; An' ‘e don't quite see ‘ow ‘e can Afford to give me Monday in, Seein' he'll lose a lot of tin Under our capit'listic plan Which sort of binds a business man ‘Lest his competitors was bound To give the Monday all around. If but (‘e sez) they would agree To let the trade ‘ave Monday free Then ‘e would do it. There you are! Shows ‘ow Democracy's a bar. It's competition, don't you see, That robs a man of liberty. But, under Socialism . . . Wot? Now, listen, I ain't talkin' rot. I know that ‘e's me boss. But look, Our scheme of Gover'ment's all crook. Now, under Socialism, see, If I said, 'I want Monday free!' Why, under right conditions, then, They'd treat their men like they was men; An' seein' it was Christmas week, We would n't ‘ave to go an' seek No favors. We'd just tell ‘em flat: 'We're takin' Monday; an' that's that!' Wot? Bosses? . . . Well, I s'pose there'd be This, wot you call, Bureaucracy. To rule us. Yes; per'aps there might; An' as you say, it don't seem right That they should want to boss a man . . . . But wot about his Fascist plan? Now, under that, we'd say, 'look ‘ere Us fellers wants this Monday clear.' An', bein' reasonable like, Blokes would n't ‘ave to call a strike To get their way . . . . Well, I suppose There's be Dictators - coves like those To fed a coot on castor oil If they decided not to toil On Monday. That seems pretty tough, All systems seems to treat men rough.