and a partridge in a pear tree!!!

Or, try this one. It's shorter and much more current (and relevant).

One, lone bookseller longing for solidarity and sanity.
Two, fellow sympathizers, suggesting a new direction.
Three, union cards passed out in the breakroom.
Four, sneaky managers, ripping down the meeting sign-up sheet.
Five, occurrences, leading up to a verbal warning.
Six, v-carts of books, to be shelved in a single shift.
Seven, shifts in a row, scheduled without warning, or explanation.
Eight, notes in your mailbox, suggesting that BR collection is down.
Nine, skids of merch. creeping in your backroom door.
Ten, more stock options, deep under water.
-OTS

When I was in college it was:

Ten crippled crickets with a marginal regressive psuedostylized aura concerning clothes cleanliness and Cassius Clay.

I understand this is based on a riff by a comedian back in the mid 1960's. But I can't seem to get a handle on it online.