And so the story begins...
City dweller, successful fella,
thought to himself "whoops i got a lot of money"
"caught up in the rat race terminally"
"i'm a proffessional cinic, but my heart's not in it,
i'm payin' the price of livin' life at the limit"
caught up in the century's anxiety
yes it preys on him, he's gettin thin
oh
He lives in a house, a very big house in the country,
watchin 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, lots of rural charm in the country
He's got morning glory and that's a different story,
everything's goin' jackanory
touched with his own mortality,
he's reading balsac, knockin' back prozac,
'it's a helping hand that makes you feel wonderfully bland'
oh it's the century's remedy for the feint at heart, a new start oh simple
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,
he says you'll come to no harm, on the animal farm in the country
in the country (ooh ooh ooh)
in the country (ooh ooh ooh)
in the country!
Blow blow me out i am so sad i don't know why
Choruses