Snug as a bug in my proverbial rug
Why would I ever leave
Smugly considering those bugs whose rugs
Are of a different weave
There are bugs whose rugs are richer
And some have rugs that are threadbare
Multi- or mono-chromatic
Some made in haste—some with care
Some bugs, it seems, have no taste
Or their rugs would look more like mine
And some of those bugs think they’re better than me
Because their rugs are so fine
Some bugs have crawled over others
In pursuit of the ultimate rug
And others have barely escaped from the mud
And the holes in which they once dug
In the chill of December, I sometimes remember
There are bugs that have no rugs at all
And I’m forced to review what I thought I knew
‘Cause a big bug is still pretty small
Advertisement
