Bob went lookin’ for a job—
Didn’t want a situation; didn’t ask a lofty station:
Didn’t have a special mission for a topnotcher’s position;
Didn’t have such fine credentials—but he had the real essentials—
Had a head that kept on workin’ and two hands that were not shirkin’;
Wasn’t either shirk or snob;
Wasn’t Mister—just plain Bob,
Who was lookin’ for a job.
Bob went lookin’ for a job;
And he wasn’t scared or daunted when he saw a sign—”Men Wanted,”
Walked right in with manner fittin’ up to where the Boss was sittin’,
And he said: “My name is Bob, and I’m lookin’ for a job;
And if you’re the Boss that hires ’em, starts ’em working and that fires ’em,
Put my name right down here, Neighbor, as a candidate for labor;
For my name is just plain ‘Bob,
And my pulses sort o’ throb
For that thing they call a job.”
Bob kept askin’ for a job,
And the Boss, he says: “What kind?” And Bob answered: “Never mind;
For I am not a bit partic’ler and I never was a stickler
For proprieties in workin’—if you got some labor lurkin’
Anywhere around about kindly go and trot it out.
It’s, a job I want, you see—
Any kind that there may be
Will be good enough for me.”
Well, sir, Bob he got a job.
But the Boss went ’round all day in a dreamy sort of way;
And he says to me: “By thunder, we have got the world’s Eighth Wonder!
Got a feller name of Bob who just asked me for a job—
Never asks when he engages about overtime in wages;
Never asked if he’d get pay by the hour or by the day;
Never asked me if it’s airy work and light and sanitary;
Never asked me for my notion of the chances of promotion;
Never asked for the duration of his annual vacation;
Never asked for Saturday half-a-holiday with pay;
Never took me on probation till he tried the situation;
Never asked me if it’s sittin’ work or standin’, or befittin’
Of his birth and inclination—he just filed his application,
Hung his coat up on a knob,
Said his name was just plain Bob—
And went workin’ at a job!”
