He was an old programmer whose work was never done.
His skin was ghostly white from never having seen the sun.
His butt was broad and flat from forty years behind a desk.
He was an old philosopher, I guessed.

My brain was full of buzzwords from the books that I had read.
I wondered if he had some thoughts on how to get ahead.
He peered at me through spectacles as thick as bottle-glass.
And he said, "Boy, this ain't no college class -

"It's longer hours;
Lotsa weekends;
Ankle grabbin';
And butt kissin'."

I told him he'd been down so long that he was out of touch.
I branded him a cynic who just smoked and drank too much.
I told him he was thinkin' like a mainframe dinosaur...
You don't do business that way anymore.

"Perception is reality" should top your business card,
Cause these days its how smart you work and not so much how hard.
You've got to think outside the box and practice synergy.
You'll never win with that philosophy,

Of longer hours;
Lotsa weekends;
Ankle grabbin';
And butt kissin'.

He lit one up and settled back into his creaking chair,
And ran his bony fingers through the remnants of his hair.
He smiled a smile that spoke of pain and not a lot of mirth.
Then he said, "Son, take this for what it's worth.

"It's all the same with every whipper-snapper comes along,
You're gonna set the world on fire. Now, kid, don't get me wrong;
But you can bang your head against that wall until you're dead,
There'll still be just one way to get ahead -

"It's longer hours;
Lotsa weekends;
Ankle grabbin';
And butt kissin'."

"I know you sit there thinkin' that some day you'll rule the roost,
But somewhere down the line you're gonna need a little boost.
And someone who could help you will just smirk and turn you down
Unless your nose is adequately brown.

"So you can take your buzzwords and perceptions about me,
And put them where the sun don't shine - now that's reality!
The ladder's always out there but before you start to climb,
You'd best give thought to where you draw the line -

"At longer hours?
Or lotsa weekends?
Or ankle grabbin'?
Or butt kissin?"

I went away and left him in a cloud of Camel smoke.
But every now and then I think about the words he spoke.
And after almost thirty years, if I could start anew,
A lot of what I've done I wouldn't do.

Cause you can work from dawn to dusk, and weekends all the same.
But that won't get you anywhere unless you play the game.
So if that fancy office with a title is your dream,
Just pucker up and buy some Vaseline...

Cause it's longer hours;
Lotsa weekends;
And ankle grabbin';
And butt kissin'.

Repeat chorus and fade as Tom T rides into the sunset...