(So the story begins) City dweller Successful fella
Thought to himself: Oops, I've got a lot of money
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 limit
Caught up in the century's anxiety Yes, it preys on him
He's getting thin (Try the simple life)
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 Oh, it's like an animal farm
That's the rural charm In the country
He's got morning glory and life's a different story
Everything's going Jackanory
Touched 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 a century's remedy For the faint at heart
A new start (Try the simple life)
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 Takes herbal baths
In the country You should come to no harm
On the animal farm In the country
(Blow, blow me out, I am so sad, I don't know why)