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**A call centre worker knocked at the heavenly gate**
**His face was scared and old**
**He stood before the weigher of his fate**
**For admission to the fold.**
**What have you done, Saint Peter said,**
**To gain admission here?**
**I took calls Sir, he said**
**For many and many a year.**
**The pearly gate swung open wide,**
**St. Peter touched the bell**
**Come in and choose your harp, he said**
**You’ve had your share of hell.**
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