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