I took a peek outside my door
To a street I thought I'd seen before
Yet my memory is unsure
Small things are impure
Still, to adventure!
Up, you curs
Step forward hims theys and hers
No time to be adverse
Or be fearing the hearse
Things could be worse
As the road still curves
Don't trip on curbs
Or be perturbed
Your echo reverbs
Over weed and herbs
Yet, madams and sirs
We always respond to lures
The small similarity endures
Familiar feelings soon ensure
You forget differences from before
And return to your well known door
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