Manual labor’s Not my cup o’ tea But I needed a roof And the labor was me. A small chicken shack For saddles and such, Had rain leaking in - Not a lot but too much. Surveying the rooftop Like some kind of dope, With shingles and hammers And nails and hope. I hitched up a ladder And climbed on each rung, ‘Til I stood at the top And released where I clung. Free as a bird A mile in the sky, I picked up the tools And away I did fly. The mission completed, The shingles in place, I abandoned the rooftop Down the ladder I’d race. A manly endeavor For a fellow like me, For manual labor’s Not my cup o’ tea.