Oh What Fun it is to Ride

Oh what fun it is to ride
In a car with the heat turned on inside.
Whether Lincoln Continental or a Chevy Nova,
A compact pickup or a big Land Rover.
I'm not inclined -- though people say it's neat --
To go out hiking in the drizzle and sleet.
You may giggle at the way I show my pride,
But oh what fun it is
to ride.

Oh what fun it is to ride
While pondering pedestrians' patient stride
In their trek over beautiful, glistening snow
With the perils waiting, hidden. I don't know
How cross-country skiiers can enjoy their sport.
When it's up to the easily-chilled to report
What they do for fun, I"m left tongue-tied,
But oh what fun it is
to rude.

Oh what fun it is to ride
When the winter panorama ranges far and wide
And the fuzzy afterglow of a hearty meal
Fills my heart with a rustic, seasonal zeal.
I will take my cake and coffee in a different way:
With a pretty friend beside me in a one-horse sleigh,
And we'll be true-blessed and satisfied --
Yes, oh what fun it is
to ride.