All things considered, I cannot but feel
That the horses get the best of the deal.
We stop with a jerk and start with a wrench,
And the driver gets cursed in both English and French.
We start, we stop, we start once more
And shunt back to where we were before;
When it’s time to sleep down you flop
With two men beneath you and three on top.
Higgledy, piggledy, here we lie,
Lice in a shirt, pigs in a sty.