My chauffeur drives my Cadillac
         In uniform.
I wear a worn coat on my back
         That he would scorn.
He speeds with umpty equine power,
         Like an express;
I amble at eight miles an hour,
         Or even less.

My wife can use our fancy bus
         To cut a dash;
She very definitely does,
         And blows my cash.
But this old codger seeks the sane
         And simple scene;
Content to jog along a lane
         With old Titine.

So as in country ways I go
         Wife loves the town;
But though I'm slow, serene I know
         I won't break down.
With brawn and bone I reckon mine
         The best machine:
Old folks and donkeys best combine,
         --"Giddup, Titine!"