Get Up

I’ve been sitting on the couch since last Saturday
Watching the last of my father’s hair turn grey
I am sleepy and surly and a little bit stuffy
My legs hurt, my back’s stiff, my eyes are all puffy
What could cure this sinking feeling?
As I’m staring at the ceiling…
I wonder what fresh air feels like?
I wonder should I ride my bike?
I’m gonna get up, get outta my jams
I’m gonna yawn and flex and stretch my little gams
I’m gonna get up, start shaking my tail
Grab my backpack, snack-pack, juice box, and a lunch pail
I’m gonna get up, go look for some grub
Gonna get all dirty and earn my time in the tub
I’m gonna get up, get outta my jams
Jump up and clap my hands
I’m gonna yawn and stretch and flex my little gams
Everybody shake your bones
Reach the sky, touch your toes
Lift a foot, shake a hand
Roll your neck now, ain’t it grand?
(Coach teaches kids some dance moves!)
Well you see I’m not a loafer, think I’ll rest here on the sofa…
Oh yeah.