Al Father, who art in transit
Phony be thy game
Thy Lear-Jet hums
Those lies you’ve spun
About Earth, and your huge mansion
Give us a break, your daily dread
And forgive us with bus passes
As we curse those flying first-class above us
And lead us not into stagflation
But humor us more, Sir Carbon-Knievel
Amen!
Shamelessly lifted from Ilana's excellent blog at
http://blog.ilanamercer.com/?p=427
--97T--