City dweller Successful fella Thought to himself Oops I've got a lot of money I'm caught in a rat race terminally I'm a professional cynic But my heart's not in it I'm paying the price of living life at the legal limit Caught up in the centuries anxiety It preys on him He's getting thin Now he lives in a house a very big house in the country Watching afternoon repeats and the food he eats in the country He takes all manner of pills and piles up analyst bills in the country It's like an animal farm lot's of rural charm in the country Now he's got morning glory Life's a different story Everything going jackanory In touch with his own mortality He's reading Balzac Knocking back Prozac It's a helping hand That makes you feel wonderfully bland Oh it's the centuries remedy For the faint at heart A new start He lives in a house a very big house in the country He's got a fog in his chest so he needs a lot of rest in the country He doesn't drink smoke laugh he takes herbal baths in the country Oh it's like animal farm but you'll come to no harm in the country Blow blow me out I am so sad I don't know why
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