Look At All Those Idiots Lyrics

Look At All Those Idiots lyrics

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.





Production Notes:

        Produced by John Boylan

        Associate Producer: Jai Winding

        Lead Vocals: Mr. Burns

        Guest Vocals: Smithers

        Harmony vocals: Timothy B. Schmit, Gerry Beckley, Lisa Angelle

        Guitar: Paul Jackson Jr., Michael Thompson

        Keyboards, Programming: John Capek, Jai Winding, John Boylan



        Recorded at Lion Share Studios, West Hollywood

        Engineer: Guy DeFazio

        Mixed at The Complex, West Los Angeles

        Engineer: Mick Guzauski

        Assistant: Dave Levy



        Written by Sam Simon / Jeff Martin / Jai Winding / John Boylan and

                Published (c) 1990 Coconino Music / Fox Film Music Corp. /

                Gracie Films Music / Great Eastern Music BMI / TCF Music

                Publishing Inc. / Tanko Music / Dobbs Music ASCAP