The slothís cage takes away my rest,
accomplishments make me a jest,
as if I never should attain,
the sought for level of my best.
I reach to free myself from cage;
not strong enough to turn a page,
how shall I live in time of sloth,
what can I do to earn a wage?
To do great wonders I am apt,
but all I do is nap and nap,
and daydream of what I can do,
while making nothing but a tap.
So hear me, those who labor strong,
how can I falsify this song?
Iíve done not much but slouch around.
If I arise it will take long.
"For God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of love, and of power, and of a sound mind." - 2 Timothy 1:7