Loner Virus

A condition of unknown origin where there's no cure
Starts with a hang nail before it attacks the brain
Leaving it a shell of its intellectual self
A mental raisin that's been shrunken to half its size
The illness moves down to all joints and muscles
Making them atrophy into a pile of Oatmeal mush
No longer interested in running through Central Park
Just watching "Dancing With the Stars" on a 42 Inch screen
Gorging on air popped popcorn and tons of extra butter
Unwilling to pick up the phone and go to the local bar with friends
Would rather sleep to noon and wear faded blue sweatpants
Trying to escape this internal funky depression
Only to get deeper in this private and personal rut
A chance of scenery in an exotic locale such as the Bahamas
Can do the trick once and for all.