The Better Job

If I were running a factory I'd stick up a sign for all to see, I'd print it large and I'd nail it high On every wall that the men walked by, And I'd have it carry this sentence clear: 'The Better Job that you want is here!'* It's the common trait of the human race To pack up and roam from place to place; Men have done it for ages and do it now, Seeking to better themselves somehow; They quit their posts and their tools they drop For a better job in another shop. It may be I'm wrong, but I hold to this That somewhere something must be amiss When a man worth while must move away For the better job with the better pay; And something is false in our own renown When men can think of a better town. So if I were running a factory I'd stick up this sign for all to see, Which never an eye in the place could miss : 'There isn't a better town than this; You need not go wandering, far or near The Better Job that you want is here!'