  Labor is a thing I do not like; Workin's makes me want to go on strike; Sittin' in an office on a sunny afternoon, Thinkin' o' nothin' but a ragtime tune. 'Cause I got the blues, I said I got the blues, I got the paragraphic blues. Been a-sittin' here since ha' pas' ten, Bitin' a hole in my fountain pen; Brain's all stiff in the creakin' joints, Can't make up no wheezes on the Fourteen Points; Can't think o' nothin' 'bout the end o' booze, 'Cause I got the para—, I said the paragraphic, I mean the column conductin' blues. |
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