All Hail The New York Transit Worker

‘Twas five days before Christmas and all through the town;
Not a train was up running, they’d all been shut down.
The turnstiles were locked and the stations were cleared,
in hopes that Old Bloomberg would give them their share.
The workers were nestled all snug in their booths;
Where oft they’re found sleeping, to tell you the truth.
Toussaint wants their pensions to be like the cops’ –
you know, ’cause it’s stressful announcing each stop.
Alas, from the public arose such a clatter,
Their leader seems not to have thought out the matter.
With shoppers not shopping and travel delayed,
public support dwindled, New Yorkers’ nerves frayed.
You dumb, lazy morons! The people did cry.
Pensions the same as the FDNY?
It’ll cost us a fortune, illiterate twits!
The people weren’t happy. In fact, they threw fits.
There’s strength in a union, or so they believed
but not before Christmas – now everyone’s peeved.
It’s terrible timing for stranding the masses;
If Reagan were here he’d have fired your asses.