Unless you’re an armadillo in Texas,

the middle of the road’s the

best way to go.

Ya got plenty’a room to wriggle.

to the left, to the right…

plenty of time to hem and quibble,

haw or giggle….

Say a strong wind rises,

pushes you to the left or to the right.

Don’t worry!

Don’t fight!

J U S T D R I F T….

(You can always sneak back under cover of night.)

Say ya see an 18-wheeler comin’ fast

on the road behind ya

loaded with cattle

soon to be steaks!

Don’t stand to do battle!

That’s a mistake.

You know what it takes….

Just move over.

That white broken line

down the center of the highway

is merely suggestions

for doin’ it your way.

And if you happen upon

the bloody, torn-body, scaley remains

of that stubborn armadillo

on some West-Texas by-way,

Pull over!

Set down somewheres ,

where ever you will,

build a smokey musket fire,

fry ’em up to your hearts desire.

Enjoy!

Road kill,

so I’ve been told,

tastes just like

chicken