Alas he finally got some a little and
at one with his time felt disappointed
he figured retirement would go his way
but life in the caboose proved irksome.
Around and around the world he drove
autos to his amazement in every place
boasted the same old rusty boulders
stones stacked to museum glass ceilings.
He no longer caroused and flipped
if he cared who smoked what when
tipped the valet a fin with a sly grin
as if he knew all about satisfactions.
One could now stream a losing streak
but the barrage of boredom wore down
the best of them and he parked the car
and whistling a happy tune walked home
satisfied to be out of his head over you
out of his head over you
out of his head over you
out of his head.
The Coming of the Toads 