Two fire exits diverged in a college dorm,
EXIT B (for Bob Charest)
And I, being one traveler--drunk and confused--
Could not well take both
And had no clue as to which to take:
The EXIT A or the EXIT B?
So I asked a janitor, who read Robert Frost
And wrote some song lyrics during his
Spare time, dreaming of fame and fortune
And those hot college girls--
So I said to him: "My friend, which way?"
He pondered a while, then as crazed as can be,
He looked like a madman long inside of me
And yelled: "You idiot and a drunken fool,
The answer is as clear as the light of day--
Take the exit that's closer--the EXIT A!"
And I, being a rebel with my Russian wit,
Told my dear companion: "You're full of it--
Mopping floors all day, writing songs at night--
No, I won't give in without a fight!"
So, in my stubbornness, I staggered through
The EXIT B instead and, alas,
It made not a bit of difference.