My boss expects me to read his mind,
Though it's not in my job description.
But I s'pose if you think for a minute you'll find…
If you're psychic, that's no contradiction.
He expects that I know when he's gone out of town,
So I don't get the least bit of warning,
And he counts on me there when his plane touches down—
Afternoon, night, or 2:00 in the morning.
Why, just recently when he'd covertly vamoosed—
I knew he'd be gone (uh-huh, right)—
I arranged for the wrong rental car…and induced
A cross-country-telepathy fight.
So…slyly I thought I would call on his cell
Attempting to cause him to wreck—
Of a sudden remembering, painfully well,
That it's he who alone signs my check.