THE SCORCHER
Reading edition
He travels along at the top of his speed, You might think that his life was at stake; To beauties of nature he never pays heed, For the record he's trying to break. He stiffens his muscles and arches his back As if he were still on the cinder-path track.
He races regardless of life and of limb, Caring naught for the folk in his way; For chickens and children are nothing to him, And his mad career nothing can stay; So wildly he wheels as if urged by a goad; By coachmen he's christened "the curse of the road."
He'll pass on the left and he'll ride on the right, For the rules of the road caring naught; His lamp he will not take the trouble to light Till a pretty smart lesson he's taught. But lecture and fine him as much as you will, The trail of the scorcher is over him still.