[Intro]

[Ben]

Your headset is backwards.

[Victor]

I prefer the microphone
on the strategic side.

[Verse]

[Ben]

At eight-oh-five the lift doors spread.
A golden pin appeared ahead.
He asked why every desk was green.
I said, "The colour marks the queue."
I clicked the total at the top:
eight thousand, four hundred and twelve unresolved.
He leaned toward the number, still,
as if the screen had broken his will.

[Victor]

Is that the month?

[Ben]

That is today.

[Victor]

Then where are yesterday's?

[Ben]

Filed away.

[Pre-Chorus]

One blinking line.
One waiting call.
No dashboard here.
No chart at all.

[Chorus]

The CEO visits Support,
eight thousand voices in a queue too short.
One gold pin. One headset.
One lyve report.
No polished slide and no metaphor
can mute the caller on Line Four.

[Verse]

A customer called in from Building Nine,
her access failed at half past three.
Victor answered: "Good morning, this is Victor S."
She said, "My whole department's locked."
I wrote the reset command in blue.
He red each letter slowly through.
The system woke. The customer sighed:
"Why was that not done at half past five?"

[Victor]

That is a fair and focused question.

[Ben]

Welcome to the queue procession.

[Pre-Chorus]

One human voice.
One simple fault.
One hour lost
before result.

[Chorus]

The CEO visits Support,
where "minor issue" means the loading dock,
where every "temporary workaround"
has a five-year service log.
He heard a caller say his name
without a prepared report.

[Instrumental Break]

[Bridge]

[Victor]

Why do six teams touch one case?

[Ben]

Each owns a field, but not the place.

[Victor]

Why has this ticket waited years?

[Ben]

It changed priority careers—
first urgent, then strategic,
then postponed, then "too legacy,"
then filed where old things disappear.

[Breakdown]

Eight thousand four hundred twelve.
One chair with half a broken wheel.
Three agents out. Two vendors gone.
One customer still holding on.

No slogan fits inside the line.
No filtered trend can make it "fine."

[Build-up]

[Victor]

Give me the oldest.
Give me the worst.
Give me the truth
before the report.

[Ben]

Then stay another hour
in Support.

[Final Chorus]

The CEO visits Support,
eight thousand voices no dashboard caught.
One gold pin lowered.
One notebook brought.
He came for contact.
He found the cost—
the years between "received"
and "resolved."

[Outro]

No victory speech,
no bright retort—
the CEO stayed in Support.

At ten-oh-six he missed a call
from the private top-floor hall.
At ten-oh-seven he wrote a name:

Ben.

Then beneath it:

"Queue is real.
Language changed nothing."
