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!"