Lyrics

The Seventh Deadly Sin

I was minding my own laziness
before you butted in,
indulging in the pleasures
of the 7th deadly sin.
You might say I suffer
from a lack of motivation.
I prefer to call it
a perpetual vacation.
I travel at the speed
of a tranquilized slow loris.
I don’t have an attention span.
My mind’s completely porous.
Don’t have a job or hobby.
Just sitting in my armchair.
There’s no use in numismatics.
Philately will get you nowhere.

If I don’t ever leave my seat
I won’t exceed the headroom.
Lust, I couldn’t stand the heat,
so I got out of the bedroom.
I have no urge for avarice.
I don’t have the ambition.
Don’t care enough to envy
your possessions or position.
As far as gluttony’s concerned,
I haven’t got the appetite.
Trampling the grapes of wrath
isn’t worth the fight.
And when it comes to pride,
well I’ve got nothing to disclose,
‘cause everybody’s naked
underneath their clothes.

I don’t want to be a wage slave.
Won’t trade my time for revenue.
Whenever I think about shaving
I ask myself, “What would Jesus do?”
Is there a 1-step program
for people just like me,
who have a strong addiction
to inactivity?
I’m not as pure and perfect
as good Sir Galahad,
but six out of seven
doesn’t seem too bad.
And if I have to go to hell,
across the water Stygian,
forgive my peccadillo.
God save me from religion.