(A Cappella:)
Well_ I rise up in the morning at a quarter to eight_
Some woman_ who's my wife_ tells me not to be late_
I kiss the kids good-bye_ I can't re-member their names_
And week after week_ well it's always the same_
And it's ho boys___ can't you code it_ ugh_ and program it right
Nothin' ever happens in this life of mine
I'm hauling up the data on the Xerox line_______
Then it's code in the data_ give the keyboard a punch_
Then cross-corre-late and a break for some lunch_
Correlate_ tabulate_ process and screen_
Program_ printout_ re- gress to the mean_
And it's ho boys___ can't you code it_ ugh_ and program it right
Nothin' ever happens in this life of mine
I'm hauling up the data on the Xerox line_______
Then it's home again_ eat again_ watch some TV_
Make love to my woman at ten-fifty- three_
I dream the same dream when I'm sleeping at night_
I'm flyin' over the hills_ just like an eagle in flight_
And it's ho boys___ can't you code it_ ugh_ and program it right
Nothin' ever happens in this life of mine
I'm hauling up the data on the Xerox line_______
Some- day I'm gonna give up all the buttons and things_
I'll punch that time clock till it can't ring_
Burn up my necktie and set myself free_
'Cause no-one's gonna fold_ bend_ or mutilate me_
And it's ho boys___ can't you code it_ ugh_ and program it right
Nothin' ever happens in this life of mine
I'm hauling up the data on the Xerox line_______
And it's ho boys___ can't you code it_ ugh_ and program it right
Nothin' ever happens in this life of mine
I'm hauling up the data on the Xerox line_______
