I'm hardly the one
You left behind,
Twenty odd years ago;
The suit fits much better,
Now I'm in the show.
I'm not using slight-of-hand,
No smoke or mirrors,
Just running sand;
The big tent long left town.

I know the four directions,
And how my wind will blow.
And even at a four way stop
I know who has the right-of-way.
And when it's my turn to turn,
I'll step on the pedal and spin my wheels
And drive myself insane.