(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_______