The sun shines bright on the sidewalk,
Your bike's in the garage, cast aside,
While you sit, transfixed to an iPod,
Please -- get your butt outside.
A pool shimmers blue in the backyard,
The bank-loan for it made us cry,
But I'm not sure you know that it's there, son,
Since you won't take your heinie outside.
The grass sure could stand a good cutting,
Though I don't think you'll really comply,
As mowers don't feature PlayStations,
And we don't have a TV outside.
The dog waits in vain by the side door,
A real worried look in her eye,
She knows she can't count on you, boy,
There's no way that you'll take her outside.
A trampoline rusts by the driveway,
It misses your feet, that's no lie,
But COD won't play itself, you know,
Hell no, you ain't going outside.
Things sure were different for me, kid,
Back in nineteen seventy-nine,
"Don't come back in this house till the streetlights come on!"
Had no choice. Put on shoes. Went outside.
Anyway, I was glad to go out there,
Especially in June and July,
No A/C makes houses infernos,
And I much preferred frying outside.
There are woods that you should be exploring,
Mitts that could catch a pop-fly,
But Minecraft is what you're adoring,
And it's hard to see laptops outside.
I sure wish I was there now, son,
I'm at work to pay bills for wifi,
But this weekend I'll change up the password,
You can bet -- your ass WILL BE outside.