Health nuts 'n' fitness freaks,

Our minds are as One:

"Death by Aerobicide"

Is lotsa fun.

So, health nuts 'n' fitness freaks,

I solemnly vow

To get outa my rut—

But

Not just right now.

Perhaps—

Mañana,

I'll try gettin' that tan;

Mañana,

I'll break down 'n' eat bran;

Mañana,

I'll start on a new plan:

"Sanum corpus, but not mens sana"—

Mañana.

Yes, sir—mañana,

I'll sweat, wearin' Sport styles;

Mañana,

I'll jog seventeen miles;

Mañana,

I'll get ridda these piles;

I'll be fit for a trim gymkhana—

Mañana.

I ain't gonna choose

The Lazier Way;

I ain't gonna snooze

Till noon, every day;

I ain't gonna rest,

Until I become

A Joe who can throw Clouseau and pin Cato,

Instead of a couch potato.

Mañana,

I'll get offa my ass;

Mañana,

I'll join Fonda's new class;

Mañana,

Who knows? Maybe I'll pass,

And arrive at the Jock Nirvana—

Mañana.