Down the ribbon motorway to freedom

Pushing car and man beyond the fringe

Breaking dull routine of office boredom

Nothing boring can on mind impinge

Only one-way streets to keep your eyes on

Nothing hampers calling to be free

Looking always toward a new horizon

The wanderer is burning within me

Sailing through those dull suburban houses

To a place, on haunted hill, where I take tea

Every sleeping hour my spirit rises

Every dreamy night my soul is free

Morning papers bore me to distraction

Clogging up the mental eye of me

Still I am never prompted to rash action

I need my job, to pay the old H.P.