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(Confessions of a Layabout)




I'm training hard to be a sloth

I slouch about all day

when I see others running round

I want to hit the hay


life's a dirty business

but my bed is antiseptic

I'm not going to soil my hands with work

I'm a certified narcoleptic


yes I'm a listless sleepy-head

I try not to be alert

I'm indolent & sluggish

sometimes totally inert


I'll eat the bread of idleness

swill opiates & wine

I get uptight upright

I'd rather be supine


I get my kicks from catnaps

& having forty winks

& summertime siestas

& soporific drinks


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their long warm hibernation

I'd love to snooze thru winter snows

so give me strong sedation


let me pop those knockout drops

or some nice narcotic

OK so I'm a lazy sod

but at least I'm not neurotic


I need a bit of shut-eye

to take it easy for a while

rushing out & doing things

is simply not my style


in the lap of Morpheus

is where I want to be

lotus-eating in the land of Nod

O that's the life for me


I keep a dozy Dormouse

it's a placid sort of pet

it doesn't bark it doesn't miaow

it snores like a saxcornet


insomnia's not my problem

I don't need to count any sheep

I have difficulty waking up

from my deep & dreamless sleep


they say that Sloth is a deadly sin

yet it's only one out of seven

& I'm too damned tired for the other six

so I might still get to heaven

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I'm just naturally relaxed

cool as a cucumber

there's little that can rouse me

out of peaceful slumber


I fall asleep in armchairs

I crash out in the bath

I even nod off while having sex

if I weren't so knackered I'd laugh


I look charming in pyjamas

cute in my Birthday suit

but I could use some Beauty Sleep

I'm such an ugly brute


my hero's Rip Van Winkle

he slept & slept & slept

when he woke & saw how much had changed

I think he must have wept


my days pass like a hazy dream

I live in a twilight world

the happiest time I ever had

was as a foetus curled


curled up in my mother's womb

there it was always night

birth was a rude awakening

I got a bloody  fright


I would try hypnosis

given half a chance

why be fully conscious

when you can live in a trance


I laze in lovely languor

blissful lethargy

soon I'll be numb all over

& my legs will atrophy


I attempt to open my mouth to speak

but all I can do is yawn

I've been semi-comatose

since the day that I was born


I'm dying for Eternal Sleep

in that Dormitory-in-the-sky

I'm sinking into somnolence

please sing a lullaby


with feathers from an angel's wing

pillowing my head

the golden sandman's magic

turns my eyelids into lead


I can't help feeling drowsy

I'll have to close my eyes

I've been awake an hour now

it's time to go bye-byes



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A - ZZZzzzzzz


"Jesus, in his sermon on the Mount, preached idleness: 'Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin: and yet I say unto you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.' Jehovah the bearded and angry god, gave his worshippers the supreme example of ideal laziness; after six days of work, he rests for all eternity."

(Paul Lafargue: the Right to Laziness)