The sun comes up and the sun goes down. The hands on the clock keep going around.
I just get up and it's time to lay down. Life gets tedious, don't it?
My shoes untied, but I don't care. I ain't figuring on going nowhere.
I'd have to wash and comb my hair. That's just wasted effort.
Water in the well getting lower and lower. Can't take a bath for six months more.
But I've heard it said, and it's true, I'm sure, that too
much bathing will weaken it.
I open the door and the flies swarm in. I shut the door and I'm sweating again.
And in the process I crack my shin just one darn thing after another.
Old Brown Mule, he must be sick. I jabbed him in the rump with a pin on a stick.
He humped his back, but he wouldn't kick. There's something cock-eyed somewhere.
A mouse, chawing on the pantry door. He's been at it for a month or more.
When he gets through, he'll sure be sore, because there ain't a
darn thing in there.
Hound Dog [...] So for Lauren, laziest dog that ever was born.
He's howlin' because he's sittin' on a thorn and just too tired to move over.
The tin roof leaks and the chimney leans and there's a hole in the
seat of my old blue jeans.
And I've hit the last of the pork and beans. Just can't depend on nothin'.
The cows gone dry and the hens won't lay. Fish quit fightin' last Saturday.
Troubles pilin' up day by day and now I'm gettin' dandruff.
Grief and misery, hens and woes and debts and taxes and so it goes.
And I think I'm gettin' a cold in my nose. Life gets tasteless, don't it?
Thanks for watching!