Lighthouse keepers have it easy
All year long their homes are breezy;
Noises don’t disturb their labors,
For they haven’t any neighbors.
They don’t need big wastebaskets
For old papers, orange peels, or gaskets;
Just one careless motion
And their trash drops in the ocean.
They don’t need nine holes or twenty,
They get exercise aplenty;
One trip up the spiral stairway
Equals three around the fairway.
Window shades are never needed,
They can dress or strip unheeded;
Wakeful brats don’t have conniptions,
Neighbors don’t give long descriptions.
When I’m old and don't need pity,
I shall leave the sullied city,
Climb a lighthouse, bar the door,
And trim my wicks forevermore.
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