A New Immigrant At the Dmv

I've come to your Country and took years to arrive. I'm forced by my sponsor to learn how to drive. The task seems so simple so how hard can it be? With all the assistance from your great DMV. I get up quite early, it's at least eight o'clock. The line is quite long to the end of the block. The first agent is rude and determined to pry. It's only past ten and she's made twelve people cry. I'm forced into rooms where I sit and I wait While numbers are called to determine my fate. After calling my ticket I meet with some dope... Then directed to stand behind a huge velvet rope. They give me a test to see what I know. I'm done in five minutes but the marking is slow. He scowls at my paper so I'm feeling some stress. I get a hundred percent but he couldn't care less. I now get to the counter as I've fought though the crunch. The agent exclaims he's going for lunch. My luck starts to change so I soften my rage When the poor fella in front dies of old age. I finally get to my picture after suffering a while But with no energy left... I'm unable to smile. The crowds are enormous and I'm beginning to tell. After five hours of torture they're starting to smell. I know you have freedoms but would it kill them to say. 'No services rendered,' unless you bath once a day. I've explored many countries and seen many strange things But what friggin' moron made these people King? So the service is slow and the expenses are large But that's what you get when the Republic's in charge. What can you do? Just stand back and yell... Let's really get stupid and give them Healthcare as well. The End *Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) *For those who might be interested. I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's Your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day.