pedestrian crossing

on my side of the street, darling

there's a thin line between bitter and sweet

this is where finders are losers and keepers are weepers
so everyone's dragging their feet

and although the prospect's enticing

no chicken has crossed this street yet

there's no silver lining, our cakes have no icing
and nobody drives red corvettes

i've been waiting for years at this bus stop

it appears i've been waiting in vain
i'll collect my old self from the pawn shop
and then we'll be taking the train