THE BOX (1972)

The recreation room of millions is a small and tiny box.
Each has his where he crawls inside to fantasize
And forget about the clocks.
For all you people reading this, if sex you had envisioned,
That may be the recreation room for you,
But I meant to write about the television.

Both are very much the same I guess.
For in each we do regress.
Oh, take me back to Momma's womb
And let me crawl inside.
For when I die who needs a tomb,
If in it I can hide.

But sex is active in that you can believe.
For when it comes, what explosions it does leave.
And TV it is passive. Let others do the work.
We'll grow fat and lazy. Work is for those jerks.

But both break down and some don't work,
Not even when we pound and jerk.
But what could be more safe than that li'l ole' TV?
Whoever heard of that thing giving you VD?

But give me those explosion,
those pants and squeaks and crys.
For when I go home for good,
I don't want to synthesize!