Lazy

Every time I see a puppy on a summer's day,
a puppy dog at play,
my heart is filled with envy.
That's why I'm in such a hurry to pass the time away,
Like that pup I'm all fed up and though it's wrong to be,
I long to be lazy.

I want to be lazy
I long to be out in the sun with no work to be done,
under that awning they call the sky,
stretching and yawning,
and let the world go drifting by.
I want to peep through that deep tangled wildwood,
counting sheep til' I sleep like a child would,
with a great big valise full of books to read where it's peaceful,
while I'm killing time, being lazy.

I hate to hurry through life and worry.
I'll be so glad when I am
among the chickens with Mr. Dickens or Mr. Omar Khayyam
to keep me company. When I'm tired of poetry,
I'm going to be there dozing, with birds composing
a pillowy-willowy melody.

And when it showers, the bees and the flowers
will be my umba-rella, until it's over, then in the clover,
I'll dream of Rockefeller, as busy as a bee,
selling oil to you and me.
I'll pity that man -
what an oil can he turned out to be.

Lazy. I want to be lazy
I long to be out in the sun with no work to be done,
under that awning they call the sky,
stretching and yawning,
and let the world go drifting by.
I want to peep through that deep tangled wildwood,
counting sheep til' I sleep like a child would,
with a great big valise full of books to read where it's peaceful,
while I'm killing time, being lazy.