Let me make a bet back in 1833 You were a racehorse faster than steam You know that I am not as old and I barely ever listen But I'll regret it when I grow up You leave your feet Where you plant your garden Under the smokestack lights Where you're not stronger than the radio That keeps me up all night My superstition is alarming I missed you but maybe you'll write Your toy box says it all with a car that barely whispers Over astroturf on your front porch I'm not a fan of your meatloaf Or the train outside that shivers Through the window when I stay overnight