If there were nothing left to do
But sit around the house all day
I would get bored. But it's not true:
There are some things get in the way
And when that's so, I find I will
Laze happily all day and night
At my ease, immobile, still
Without a scrap of work in sight.
So while I can procrastinate
I find I do, until nightfall
But if I have no work to wait
I wish that I could do it all.
It's only in the empty haze
I do not wish to sit and laze.
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