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 I got the paragraphic, I mean the column constructin' blues.