Lyrics to Look At All These Idiots
Burns: Smithers.
Smithers: Hm?
Burns: Turn on the surveillance monitors.
Smithers: Yes sir!
Burns: Hm. It's worse than I thought.
Burns: Each morning at nine,
They trickle through the gate;
They go home early;
They come in late.
Reeking of cheap liquor,
They stumble through the day;
Never give a thought
To honest work for honest pay.
I know it shouldn't vex me,
I shouldn't take it hard,
I should ignore their capering
With a kingly disregard.
Burns But, look at all those idiots,
& Ooh, look at all those boobs.
Back: An office full of morons,
A factory full of fools.
Is it any wonder, that I'm singing,
Singing the blu-u-ues.
Smithers: Yours is a heavy burden, sir.
Burns: I'm just getting started.
Burns: They make personal phone calls,
On company time.
They Xerox their buttocks,
And guess who pays the dime.
Their blatant thievery wounds me,
Their ingratitude astounds!
I long to lure them to my home,
And them release the hounds!
I shouldn't grow unsettled
When faced with such abuse.
I shouldn't let it plague me,
I shouldn't blow a fuse.
Burns But, look at all those idiots,
& Ooh, look at all those boobs.
Back: An office full of morons,
A factory full of fools.
Is it any wonder, that I'm singing,
Singing the blu-u-ues.
Burns: What happened? Where are the instruments?
Smithers: I believe they call this a breakdown, sir.
Burns: I can't have any breakdowns here!
What if there was an inspector around?
Play a guitar solo.
Smithers: Ho. I'm a little out of practice, sir.
Burns: I said do it! So, do it! do it! do it!!
Smithers: Yes, sir.
Ah-ha.
Hahahaha.
Burns: Yes, excellent.
Well done.
All right, it's beginning to grate.
That'll be sufficient, Smithers.
Smithers: Excuse me?
Burns: I said that's enough!
Smithers: Ooh! Sorry sir. Thought I had my mojo working.
Burns: Humph.
Burns: That man by the cooler,
Drinking water, as if it's free.
Smithers: Oh. That's Homer Simpson, sir.
A drone from sector 7-G.
Burns: Yes, well, call this Simpson to my office,
And then stay to watch the fun.
If he's six feet when he enters,
He'll be two feet when I'm done.
Smithers: Ha-ha-ha-ha.
Burns: It brings a ray of sunshine
To my unhappy life,
To make him kneel before me,
And slowly twist the knife.
Burns Look at all those idiots,
& D'oh, look at all those boobs.
Back: An office full of morons,
A factory full of fools.
Is it any wonder, that I'm singing,
Singing the blu-u-ues.
Smithers: Take me home, sir.
Burns: I'm trying.
Burns Surrounded by idiots,
& Outnumbered by boobs.
Back: An office full of morons,
A planet full of fools.
Is it any wonder, I'm singing,
Smithers: Maybe you should be singing, sir.
Burns: Oh. Singing the blu-u-ues.
(Back: Look at all those idiots.)
Smithers: Mr. Burns, you, you make Muddy Waters sound shallow and
(Back: Office full of morons.)
Smithers: cheerful, by comparison.
Burns: Thank you, Smithers. Meaningless but
(Back: Is it any wonder.)
Burns: heartfelt compliment.
I feel like I got a few things off my chest,
and onto the chests of my inferiors.
Smithers: You did.
(Back: Look at all those idiots.)
Burns: Why are they still playing?
Smithers: Um...
(Back: Office full of morons.)
Burns: They're not still on salary, are they?
Smithers: We're not validating their parking, sir.
(Back: Is it any wonder.)
Burns: They're paying for their own coffee, now.
Smithers: Hm?
Burns: Turn on the surveillance monitors.
Smithers: Yes sir!
Burns: Hm. It's worse than I thought.
Burns: Each morning at nine,
They trickle through the gate;
They go home early;
They come in late.
Reeking of cheap liquor,
They stumble through the day;
Never give a thought
To honest work for honest pay.
I know it shouldn't vex me,
I shouldn't take it hard,
I should ignore their capering
With a kingly disregard.
Burns But, look at all those idiots,
& Ooh, look at all those boobs.
Back: An office full of morons,
A factory full of fools.
Is it any wonder, that I'm singing,
Singing the blu-u-ues.
Smithers: Yours is a heavy burden, sir.
Burns: I'm just getting started.
Burns: They make personal phone calls,
On company time.
They Xerox their buttocks,
And guess who pays the dime.
Their blatant thievery wounds me,
Their ingratitude astounds!
I long to lure them to my home,
And them release the hounds!
I shouldn't grow unsettled
When faced with such abuse.
I shouldn't let it plague me,
I shouldn't blow a fuse.
Burns But, look at all those idiots,
& Ooh, look at all those boobs.
Back: An office full of morons,
A factory full of fools.
Is it any wonder, that I'm singing,
Singing the blu-u-ues.
Burns: What happened? Where are the instruments?
Smithers: I believe they call this a breakdown, sir.
Burns: I can't have any breakdowns here!
What if there was an inspector around?
Play a guitar solo.
Smithers: Ho. I'm a little out of practice, sir.
Burns: I said do it! So, do it! do it! do it!!
Smithers: Yes, sir.
Ah-ha.
Hahahaha.
Burns: Yes, excellent.
Well done.
All right, it's beginning to grate.
That'll be sufficient, Smithers.
Smithers: Excuse me?
Burns: I said that's enough!
Smithers: Ooh! Sorry sir. Thought I had my mojo working.
Burns: Humph.
Burns: That man by the cooler,
Drinking water, as if it's free.
Smithers: Oh. That's Homer Simpson, sir.
A drone from sector 7-G.
Burns: Yes, well, call this Simpson to my office,
And then stay to watch the fun.
If he's six feet when he enters,
He'll be two feet when I'm done.
Smithers: Ha-ha-ha-ha.
Burns: It brings a ray of sunshine
To my unhappy life,
To make him kneel before me,
And slowly twist the knife.
Burns Look at all those idiots,
& D'oh, look at all those boobs.
Back: An office full of morons,
A factory full of fools.
Is it any wonder, that I'm singing,
Singing the blu-u-ues.
Smithers: Take me home, sir.
Burns: I'm trying.
Burns Surrounded by idiots,
& Outnumbered by boobs.
Back: An office full of morons,
A planet full of fools.
Is it any wonder, I'm singing,
Smithers: Maybe you should be singing, sir.
Burns: Oh. Singing the blu-u-ues.
(Back: Look at all those idiots.)
Smithers: Mr. Burns, you, you make Muddy Waters sound shallow and
(Back: Office full of morons.)
Smithers: cheerful, by comparison.
Burns: Thank you, Smithers. Meaningless but
(Back: Is it any wonder.)
Burns: heartfelt compliment.
I feel like I got a few things off my chest,
and onto the chests of my inferiors.
Smithers: You did.
(Back: Look at all those idiots.)
Burns: Why are they still playing?
Smithers: Um...
(Back: Office full of morons.)
Burns: They're not still on salary, are they?
Smithers: We're not validating their parking, sir.
(Back: Is it any wonder.)
Burns: They're paying for their own coffee, now.
Songwriters: S. SIMON, J. MARTIN, J. WINDING, J. BOYLAN
Publisher: Lyrics © DOBBS MUSIC, FOX MUSIC, INC.
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Publisher: Lyrics © DOBBS MUSIC, FOX MUSIC, INC.
Powered by LyricFind