There's a Polar Bear In our Frigidaire - He likes it 'cause it's cold in there. - Shel Silverstein

Talked my head off
Worked my tail off
Cried my eyes out
Walked my feet off
Sang my heat out
So you see,
There's really not much left of me.

Rollin' Stone,
Wanna see my picture on the cover.
Wanna buy five copies for my mother [Yeah!]
Wanna see my smilin' face, on the cover,
The cover of the Rollin Stone.

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.