Lazy Bones
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Oh, lazybones, sleeping in the sun
How do you expect to get your day's work done?
Now I never expect to get no day's work done
I'm concentrating on sleeping in the noonday sun
Oh, lazybones, sleeping in the shade
How do you ever expect to get that cornmeal made?
Now Mr. Bing, I just don't want no cornmeal made
Because from morning to night you'll
Catch me sleeping in that good old shade
Why when taters need spraying
I'll bet you keep praying
That the bugs just fall off of the vine
And when you go fishing
If you do go fishing, which I must doubt
I'll bet you keep wishing
That the fish don't take no grabs at your line
Lazybones, loafing through the day
How do you expect to make a filthy dime that way?
No, I never ever expect to make a dime that way, Mr. Bing
'Cause never heard a word I said