A Busy Man
This crowded life of God's good giving
No man has relished more than I;
I've been so goldarned busy living
I've never had the time to die.
So busy fishing, hunting, roving,
Up on my toes and fighting fit;
So busy singing, laughing, loving,
I've never had the time to quit.
I've never been one for thinking
I've always been the action guy;
I've done my share of feasting, drinking,
And lots of wenching on the sly.
What all the blasted cosmic show meant,
I've never tried to understand;
I've always lived just for the moment,
And done the thing that came to hand.
And now I'll toddle to the garden
And light a good old Henry Clay.
I'm ninety odd, so Lord, please pardon
My frequent lapses by the way.
I'm getting tired; the sunset lingers;
The evening star serenes the sky;
The damn cigar burns to my fingers . . .
I guess . . . I'll take . . . time off . . . to die.
Robert Service
Uh oh... My wife called and woke me up... Started talking about walking everywhere and quitting her soda habit... It's rather ironic that happens right after an earlier writing here...
I wish I had time to join her. She wanted me to walk with her and kids to the park tonight, but I have stuff to do... I really need to get my leaves out to a friend's house and get them burned... There is no way the city is going to pick them up anytime soon.
But she is right... We do need to start doing something... I got a gut bigger than life itself and I need to get rid of it... I guess it's time to get the bikes out and fix them...
Welp, I'm currently listening to the ATM archive... You should check it out... Last week's show was the best show we had in a million years... That show only stays up for two weeks...
Welp, work to do... First things first... Call a cab and go get my truck...
Chip
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