Now I am in my late nineties,
My memory’s got rather poor.
Like why am I driving out into the night
Away from my own garage door?

I seem to be driving the car very fast,
But the switch for the lights I can’t find.
That’s not a significant problem to me -
Being almost totally blind.

There’s bumping and thumping and squelching,
And I think I can hear people’s screams.
It’s all rather odd and confusing;
I do wish I knew what it means.

I stand by my car in my garage.
I cannot remember quite why.
I’d best close the doors and go up to bed;
There’s the moon and the stars in the sky.

My daughter has called round to see me;
Must be morning - Yes, outside it’s light.
She tells me the 'Hit and Run Madman'
Claimed fifteen more victims last night.

The first four were hit on the pavements -
Such carnage police hadn’t seen.
Five chased from the road ‘cross the golf course;
Mowed down on the seventeenth green.

Three more were hit in their gardens
As they went out to call in the cat.
The ones who left open the patio doors
Were run down in their lounge where they sat.

Such stories of death and destruction
Give us poor, frail, old folk a fright.
I’m just glad that I’m too disabled
To dare venture outside at night.