We weep over the dead Lincoln; By the road Rent outside of Tampa. We crashed gears To slow on that last corner. But we were moving too fast - Through the rain whipped by wind And the tidal road wash. We’re all healthy If shaken by the sudden Jolt to our holiday mission. No, we’re not blaming you dad. Yet! Your driving is woeful, we think. But mercifully the rain has stopped And a sunbeam just warmed me.