Thoreau regaled us ‘bout Walden Pond,
The simple life, of which he was fond.
Of the beauty of trees, of birds and of bees
The sound of the leaves as they’re rustled by breeze.

But me, I like the City life, full of hassle, full of strife;
The bantering with friends and wife, words that soothe, or cut like a knife.
These are my true heart’s delight, big things, little, even slight.
We carry on through day and night and say such things.  Oh, so bright!

Yes, give me urban life, my friend, full of action with no end
It’s not for me to laze about, I’d go quite mad, without a doubt.
To relax? I’ll do my yoga, meditate or just be Zen
Not for me to hike or camp or scout; I like the indoors, not the out.

Thoreau regaled us ‘bout Walden Pond
But with each country trip, I know he’s wrong.
We’ve got our flowers and our trees, all in the park
We even have streetlights to glow in the dark.

We have Philharmonic, operas and plays, enough to last for days and days
Or so many movies for us to see, or ball games if that’s your glee.
To get around we go underground, the trains cover the whole **** town
Or if you prefer a maze, go to the Village and find your way.

Yes, Thoreau regaled us ‘bout Walden Pond,
The simple life, of which he was so fond.
But me, I’ll stay here in the town, the place of which there’s no beyond
I’ll have my fun from dusk till dawn, then start again without a yawn.

Those country folks can have their lawn with squirrels and deer and baby faun
Each to his own, I’ve heard it said; leave me here or I’ll be dead.
Take those woods, I know you love it.
But as for me?  You can shove it.