The blackleg lecturer

All the university lecturers are on strike today all over the UK over pay. No teaching or paper marking or seeing students.

The Vol-in-Law has decided to cross the picket line (though only virtually, he's working from home). His university assumed that all the teaching staff would be on strike today, and if he wanted to be paid he had to submit a special form saying he wasn't striking. A special scab form. Nice.

So, after the traditional song Blackleg Miner* and in honor of the Vol-in-Law's courage and indefatigability in bringing learning to the fresh, young minds yearning for knowledge:

It's in the evening after dark
When the blackleg lecturer creeps to work
With his crumpled suit and dirty shirt
There goes the blackleg lecturer

He takes his chalk and down he goes
To shape the minds that lie below
But there's not a student in this town row
Would look at a blackleg lecturer

Oh, University is a terrible place
They rub wet clay in the blackleg's face
Around the classrooms they run a foot race
To catch the blackleg lecturer

Dinna gan near the office mine
Across the way they stretch a line
To catch the throat and break the spine
Of the dirty backleg lecturer

So take your notes and pen as well
And hoy them down the pit of hell
Down ye go and fare ye well
You dirty blackleg lecturer

Join the union while ye may
Don't wait until your dying day
For that may not be far away
You dirty blackleg lecturer

_______

*I've a very nice version of this song by Steeleye Span.