I shall not want more.
He makes me sit still at dinner theatres
But leads me out to pasture.
He even restores my sorry credit
And keeps my wheels aligned.
Yea though I take shortcuts through the cemetery
I will fear no road rage,
For the spooks are quiet,
And my batteries have juice.
You catered my sister-in-law's wedding
In San Francisco, on the worst side of town.
I got drunk, and spilled my cookies on the carpet.
Surely, things will work out,
And once the mortgage is paid off,
Maybe I'll take naps again
and forget to snore.