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(so the story begins)
City dweller
Successful fella
Thought to himself:
oops, Ive got a lot of money
Caught in a rat race
Terminally
Im a professional cynic
But my hearts not in it
Im paying the price of living life at the limit
Caught up in the centurys anxiety

Yes, it preys on him
Hes 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, its like an animal farm
Thats the rural charm
In the country

Hes got morning glory and lifes a different story
Everythings going jackanory
Touched with his own mortality
Hes reading balzac, knocking back prozac
Its a helping hand that makes you feel wonderfully bland
Oh, its a centurys 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
Hes got a fog in his chest
So he needs a lot of rest
In the country
He doesnt drink, smoke, laugh
Takes herbal baths
In the country
You should come to no harm
On the animal farm
In the country