Well, here’s to the trucker always on the road,

His burden is heavy, his cab sure feels cold.
And here’s to the waitress, a-slingin’ her hash,
Dreamin’ ‘bout bein’ some Hollywood lass.

And here’s to the fireman, just holdin’ his hose,
And occasionally striking a calendar pose.
To all of these people, we offer our claps,
And dedicate to them this here Bag of Crap.

Yes, here’s to the soldier, in far away lands,
Here’s to the glass blower, with all that hot sand,
And here’s to the botanist, programming bots,
We salute every one of you, and that’s quite a lot.

Plus that engineer guy, and that taxi driver,
And the guy who decided he should pitch The Wire.
The policeman, the teacher, the nun and the farmer,
Those two guys, Tom and Andy, who make up Groove Armada.

To all of these people, out there on their own,
And others we just didn’t have time to reference,
We offer our thanks for the job that you do
Even when a day off is your personal preference.

And we dedicate, truthfully, this Bag of Crap,
To every bit of your toil and your pain.
We hope that you enjoy that this writeup’s for you,
‘Cause your own bag? You must be insane.

THE HOLY CRAP COMMANDMENTS v3.0

I. Thou shalt expect nothing beyond ONE bag of some kind and THREE crappy items.

II. Thou shalt not whine and complain when some people’s crap turns out to be nicer than yours.

III. Thou shalt take a moment to consider whether you might be better off just not buying this crap.

IV. Thou shalt not expect better crap just because things are different this time. Crap is crap.

V. To paraphrase Stephen Stills, shalt thou not get the crap you want, want the crap you get.

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