Twas Three Weeks Before Christmas
Twas three weeks before Christmas,
and all through the courthouse,
Not a lawyer was stirring, especially not ours.
The company’s proposals were there to be seen.
All employees could do was sit there and scream.
The pensions were funded, for executives, that is.
While visions of foreclosures, danced in our heads.
And Judge Mitchell in his robes, with gavel in hand.
Had already decided to take the company’s stand.
“You don’t need benefits, or a pension for that matter.
By the time I get done, your contract will be in tatters.â€
Away to the media the flight attendants flew like a flash.
Finally, someone stands up to this corporate trash.
The moon on the doors of the empty PIT hangars,
Showed the price we have paid to these management wangers.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a new regional jet; Is it broken, I fear?
It costs more to operate, seems they’re always quite broke.
Could all these stories they fed us have been a cruel joke?
Let’s get back to the courthouse, back to the judge.
As he comments on the future of workers with a grudge.
“Dr. Bronner you represent pensioners it seems,
How ironic to destroy USAir retirees’ dreams.â€
“Show me the contracts, I’m having a ball.
Now I abrogate, abrogate, abrogate them all.â€
He signed all their motions, his gavel it flew.
And a smile crossed his lips as he gave us a good screw.
A bundle of leases he threw in the trash.
And he looked over at Bruce and said, “Show me the cash!â€
Contracts mean nothing, almost like they had a pact.
No ones afraid of the Railway Labor Act.
Employees that are senior, we must throw away,
Like we did with those great airlines, Piedmont USAir & PSA.
Bruce spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And tore up the contracts, like a big corporate jerk.
He said to Dr. Bronner, “The unions thought they’d bone us,
But the judge was on our side, so give me my bonus.â€
He sprang to the airport, climbed in an Embraer.
Said to the pilot, “Get this jet in the air.â€
But I heard him exclaim, with his heart full of hate,
“What do you mean it’s broken & We’re returning to the gate?â€
Twas three weeks before Christmas,
and all through the courthouse,
Not a lawyer was stirring, especially not ours.
The company’s proposals were there to be seen.
All employees could do was sit there and scream.
The pensions were funded, for executives, that is.
While visions of foreclosures, danced in our heads.
And Judge Mitchell in his robes, with gavel in hand.
Had already decided to take the company’s stand.
“You don’t need benefits, or a pension for that matter.
By the time I get done, your contract will be in tatters.â€
Away to the media the flight attendants flew like a flash.
Finally, someone stands up to this corporate trash.
The moon on the doors of the empty PIT hangars,
Showed the price we have paid to these management wangers.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a new regional jet; Is it broken, I fear?
It costs more to operate, seems they’re always quite broke.
Could all these stories they fed us have been a cruel joke?
Let’s get back to the courthouse, back to the judge.
As he comments on the future of workers with a grudge.
“Dr. Bronner you represent pensioners it seems,
How ironic to destroy USAir retirees’ dreams.â€
“Show me the contracts, I’m having a ball.
Now I abrogate, abrogate, abrogate them all.â€
He signed all their motions, his gavel it flew.
And a smile crossed his lips as he gave us a good screw.
A bundle of leases he threw in the trash.
And he looked over at Bruce and said, “Show me the cash!â€
Contracts mean nothing, almost like they had a pact.
No ones afraid of the Railway Labor Act.
Employees that are senior, we must throw away,
Like we did with those great airlines, Piedmont USAir & PSA.
Bruce spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And tore up the contracts, like a big corporate jerk.
He said to Dr. Bronner, “The unions thought they’d bone us,
But the judge was on our side, so give me my bonus.â€
He sprang to the airport, climbed in an Embraer.
Said to the pilot, “Get this jet in the air.â€
But I heard him exclaim, with his heart full of hate,
“What do you mean it’s broken & We’re returning to the gate?â€
