Ballad of Gracious Living

[MACHEATH, spoken]
Is this a life for one of my proud station?
I take it, I must frankly own, amiss
From childhood on I heard with consternation
One must live well to know what living is!

(sung)
I've heard them praising single-minded spirits
Whose empty stomachs show they live for knowledge
In rat-infested shacks awash with ullage
I'm all for culture, but there are some limits
The simple life is fine for those it suits
I don't find, for my part, that it attracts
There's not a bird from here to Halifax
Would peck at such unappetizing fruits
What use is freedom in a world like this?
One must live well to know what living is

The dashing sort who cut precarious capers
And go and risk their necks just for the pleasure
Then swagger home and write it up at leisure
And flog the story to the Sunday papers
If you could see how cold they get at night
With frigid wife beside them climb to bed
And how they dream they're going to get ahead
And how they see time stretching out of sight
Now tell me, who would choose to live like this?
One must live well to know what living is

There's plenty that they have. I know I lack it
And ought to join their splendid isolation
But when I gave it more consideration
I told myself: my friend, that's not your racket
Suffering ennobles, but it can depress
The paths of glory lead but to the grave
You once were poor and lonely, wise and brave
You ought to try to bite off rather less
The search for happiness boils down to this:
One must live well to know what living is