And so the the story beginsCity dweller, successful fellaThought to himself oops I've got a lot of moneyI'm caught in a rat race terminallyI'm a professional cynic but my heart's not in itI'm paying the price of living life at the limitCaught up in the centuries anxietyIt preys on him, he's getting thinHe lives in a house, a very big house in the countryWatching afternoon repeats and the food he eats in the countryHe takes all manner of pills and piles up analyst bills in the countryIt's like an animal farm lot's of rural charm in the countryHe's got morning glory, life's a different storyEverything going jackanory, in touch with his own mortalityHe's reading balzac, knocking back prozacIt's a helping hand that makes you feel wonderfully blandOh it's the centuries remedyFor the faint at heart, a new startHe lives in a house, a very big house in the countryHe's got a fog in his chest so he needs a lot of rest in the countryHe doesn't drink smoke laugh, takes herbal baths in the countrySays she's come to no harm on an animal farm in the countryIn the country, in the countryBlow, blow me out I am so sad, I don't know whyBlow, blow me out I am so sad, I don't know whyHe lives in a house, a very big house in the countryWatching afternoon repeats and the food he eats in the countryHe takes all manner of pills and piles up analyst bills in the countryOh, it's like an animal farm lot's of rural charm in the countryHe lives in a house, a very big house in the countryHe's got a fog in his chest so he needs a lot of rest in the countryHe doesn't drink smoke laugh, takes herbal baths in the countryAnd she's come to no harm on an animal farm in the country
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