just like a dictator

a boss of mine
was anything but good and fine
indeed, he was a mob
he could harass and torture you
could make you sad and blue
before you have done your job

he could be nice
could take you by surprise
even when you thought the worst of him
he could laugh and smile
could look with grace and style
but his eyes were dim

he trod open just like a dictator – yes, he did
but he fled just like a refugee
when he was being held responsible
for something undeniable
that he didn’t want to see
woe was me
oh, woe was me

it was hardly to believe
his life was full of grief
his friendliness was only pretence
so he made everybody see
shift the responsibility
to someone who couldn’t take offence

someday he will do you in
will do it as ugly as sin
when you don’t quit your job
and work for somebody else
he will knock you down
will say with a frown
“I don’t mean to hurt you
I just I can’t help myself”

you tread open just like a dictator – yes, you do
but you flee just like a refugee
when you are being hold responsible
for something undeniable
that you don’t want to see
woe is me
oh, woe is me