All things work together for the glory of the board.
A man is unmade for the good of the corporation.
The company shall direct the tiny lost souls,
and catalogue their many minor functions.
All things work together for the glory of the board,
and all things inside the Sun are vanity.
Dictation echoes down bleach-clean corridors
and power reverberates in old chalk dust bones.
Bring in the new fingers and thumbs,
turn the screws and screw them all.