Meteorface Jones loved looking at stars,
And if he had a telescope, looking at Mars.
He stayed up all the night and slept through day.
Through all the year, the same, on the grass he would lay.
“Great heavens,” he’d cheer at the top of his lungs!
“Pretty stars staring down from the sky where they’re hung
Please don’t ever leave me, don’t go behind clouds!”
And then he’d count each every one out loud.
Long he sat, oh so still, in the long tall grass.
Until his mom forgot him, and the years did pass.
Meteorface kept counting stars without dismay
Until his little tiny frame withered away.
And so my friends, a lesson taught,
If you’ve learned or if you’ve not,
Do not waste your days away staring at heaven.
You just might raise the body count of laziness to seventy-seven.
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