Where are you going, with so little teeth?
Business deals pending? Appointments to keep?
When will you get there, and how will you know?
There's always 'Free Parking' wherever you go.
You stumble down Western, tall warm one on tap,
With always an eye for a good place to nap.
Fermented ambassador of Pike Market Place,
You mumble nonsensical shit in their face,
Then mosey away with a glint in your eye,
I wonder, Tall Can Eskimo,
Who's happier,
You, or I?
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