If you got off that lard ass and did some real work
And perhaps breathed some fresh air, would that put a dent
In the thick glass protecting you from the outside
Where reality charbroils what isn’t deep fried?
When the body betrays you, will you then repent?
Get yourself a new lifestyle, you beleaguered jerk!

Everyone needs their bottom line. I understand.
I’ve flipped my share of burgers and scrubbed a few floors.
I could vegetate in a cube from nine ‘til five
But within a few decades, I’d not be alive.
Some communion with nature the spirit adores.
Step outside that cramped office and step on some land.

Incomplete is the life filled with too much to do
And no time to recover from doing too much.
A byproduct of industry life has become.
Sedentaria settle beside the sick slum.
Virtual is the workforce who is not in touch
With some deep sense of meaning for not just a few.