A Country Ode to Adjuncts

I was following along in a conversation on Twitter about adjuncts and grad school and the usual. I had a flash and remembered something I wrote years ago. So, with apologies to Willie Nelson, here's my stab at an adjunct country song.

“Mama, Don’t Let Your Daughters Grow up to be PhDs”
Inspired by Willie Nelson

Mama don't let your daughters grow up to be PhDs
Don't let 'em pick grad school and read them old books
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers or even a cook
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be PhDs
They'll never be content as they'll always be contingent
Even in a subject they love

Professors want to be loved so they're easy to hold
As they'd rather give you a lecture then take diamonds or gold
Suede elbow patches and old faded pumps 
Six classes for every new day
And if you don't appreciate her and she don't get tenure
She'll probly just stay and stay

Mama don't let your daughters grow up to be PhDs
Don't let 'em pick grad school and read them old books
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers or even a cook
Mama don't let your daughters grow up to be PhDs
They'll never be content as they'll always be contingent
Even in a subject they love

Professors like dusty old libraries and clear sentence structure
Would love to have children but end up correcting all night
And them that don't know her won't like her
And them that do sometimes won't know how to take her
She ain't wrong she's just different
And her pride won't let her do something else with her life

Mama don't let your daughters grow up to be PhDs
Don't let 'em pick grad school and read them old books
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers or even a cook
Mama don't let your daughters grow up to be PhDs
They'll never be content as they'll always be contingent
Even in a subject they love

Mama don't let your daughters grow up to be PhDs
Don't let 'em pick grad school and read them old books
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers or even a cook