That love thing? That weird, transcendent, kinda creepy understanding of a deeper meaning of romance? They have it. They feel it. And boy, do they know how to use it.

Shakespeare is, of course, an obvious pick. Once you get passed all the self-obsession, violence, insanity and persistent skull-holding. I mean, the man knew how to charm. And create pertinent monologues for the mortally wounded.

Oh, be still my beating heart!

And then there’s Jane Austen. And Colin Firth. With a very white, very wet, very well-fitting T-Shirt. Enough said.

That love thing? That weird, transcendent, kinda creepy understanding of a deeper meaning of romance? They have it. They feel it. And boy, do they know how to use it.

Shakespeare is, of course, an obvious pick. Once you get passed all the self-obsession, violence, insanity and persistent skull-holding. I mean, the man knew how to charm. And create pertinent monologues for the mortally wounded.

Oh, be still my beating heart!

And then there’s Jane Austen. And Colin Firth. With a very white, very wet, very well-fitting T-Shirt. Enough said.

And of course, the King of all things suave and swoon-worthy and, well, just straight sexy:

Mr Barry White.

The Luuuuuuurve Doctor.

What does payroll have to do with the wonderful musical stylings of this Soul God, you might ask?

The answer to all your dreams.

Whether you’re terrified by pensions, lost in a sea of tax codes or being rained on by the sick and the, well, pregnant: it doesn’t matter to us.

My kind of wonderful. That’s what you are.

Young or old. Big or small. No matter how far.

I know, I know, there’s only one like you

Every payroll is different.

There’s no way they could have made two 

And we love every nuance and speciality.

You’re my reality

Every contact and team

I’m lost in a dream

Your bursar

Your first

Your tasks

Your last

We’ll be

Your everything

YEAH!

Or, well, at least for payroll. Happy Valentine’s?