Verse:

From the programming department
To the place where service dwells
To the dear old printing queue we know so well
See the tech writers assemble
With our mark-up pens raised on high
And our bitching and our moaning cast a spell.

Yes our bitching and our moaning,
'Bout the way that we catch hell
From our vendors
From our bosses
And the rest

Make us say "Awww shucks" and "Phoooey!"
And other things as well
'Til we rise up and sing with verve and zest:

Refrain:

We're poor little scribes
Who have words to sell
Scribble, scribble, scribble

We're underpaid schlubs
Who don't write so well
Scribble, scribble, scribble

Frustrated wordsmiths bought for a fee
Doomed to rewrites thru eternity
Lord, preserve us from lit'racy
Scribble, scribble, scribble