DR FREDDIE's post from a couple of days ago made me remember this:
I sell a line of plastics.
And I travel on the road.
I have a case of samples
Which believe me is a load.
Every night a strange cafe,
A strange hotel and then
Early in the morning
I am on the road again.
When the season's over
And my lonesome journey ends
That's the only time I see
My family and my friends.
I drive up Ocean Parkway
And before I park the car
My Ma leans out the window
And she hollers: "Here we are!"