a thrill seeker
Two weeks from anywhere
Sets his mind to the task at hand
But he knows first he'll have to beat their fence.
So he goes, drops right in, just as the guards come closing in 'round him.
Send him back to the drawing board again
He'll have to be more punk next year.
With nothing to show for it all, but his hand
Punk enough next year
with nothing to show for it all but a gimpy hand.
| 
| 
