Oh where, oh where has my little lunatic gone?
Oh where, oh where can he/she/neuter/extraterrestrial/hollow earth moleman be?
With his/her/its/what sense cut short, and his/her/its tail/claw/raygun cut long,
Oh where, oh where is he/she/it/thee?
While you all drone on about the wonders of near-printemps warmth, some of us have to suffer the stench of filthy parkas flush with stale cigarettes, cigars, armpits & sweat. At least there was no urinal aroma.