I climb in Suzanne,
She ain't no hippy van,
She's rusty and forgotten
Her soul is slightly rotten
But I believe she's grand.
I turn the key and roar her
Then I beg her like a schnorrer
Won't you let me live inside you
If not own you then to ride you
With life becoming more.
They tell me you're a clunker
And a worn out useless junker
I want you fixed and waxed
With my refund income tax
And life will be so good.
Sleeping in the back
Of my rusty Cadillac
She promises me a meal
in Gorst's finest diner
And a ride o'er the sea
to a place she loves in China
And that's the way to feel.
But I died asphyxiated
From this life liberated
When Suzanne turned herself on
Ran exhaust until the air's gone
And I smiled in my sleep
Eternal and so deep
For only Death is real.
At a U.F.T.* event,
The sign was printed large,
Obviously placed there by
The person left in charge.
What it said was no surprise
For schnorrers** often show,
But “Please take only one!” I thought
Was not the way to go.
It referred to bagels, which
Were piled upon a plate,
Looking like the most pathetic
Ones you ever ate.
Though quite unappealing,
Even with a cream cheese schmear,
There are those who might take two –
The sign made that quite clear.
An admonition will not stop
A schnorrer in his tracks,
But add some sorry bagels and
The food staff can relax!
*United Federation of Teachers
**greedy people who take more than their share
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