There's nothing wrong with daydreams -
inventions are born that way,
but Freddy was showing a tendency
to fritter his life away.

When other men were building homes,
he didn't have a care.
The only things that Freddy built
were castles in the air.

He'd gad about the gardens,
then take a leisured stroll.
While other men picked up their stride,
he was on cruise control.

As thoughts of lollygagging
occupied Freddy's mind,
he loafed and lounged and puttered 'round
and took his own sweet time.

If Freddy had a job to do,
he was sure to drag his heels.
The time or two he tried to work
he only spun his wheels.

One day a friend suggested
it was time he got a'cracking;
but after a lifetime of coasting along,
he couldn't help but slacking.

He knew opportunity passed him by
each time he chose to dawdle,
but the prospect of stepping lively?
Well, that seemed too darned awful.

So Freddy just dilly-dallied
as he watched each day unfold.
Then he moseyed up to the front porch swing
and rocked till gray and old.