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.