STOPPING BY THE DUMP

Whose dump these are I think I don't know

Her house is in the garbage truck though

She will see me stopping here

To watch her dump fill up with garbage

My little rat must think it queer

To stop without a wire near

Between the dump and the smell

The lightest morning of the year

She gives her tail a shake

To ask if there is some mistake

The only other sound's the sweep

Of hard wind and paper

The dump is smelly, ugly and deep

But I don't have promises to keep

And miles to go before I die

And miles to go before I die