“How I envy you your good fortune,”
said the slug to a passing snail.
You can wander around
All over the town
With your house twixt your head and your tail.
"This house is a burden, a millstone,
"Said the snail with a look of dismay,"
With maintenance costs and fuel bills,
insurance and mortgage to pay."
"But I’m a homeless, an outcast, the slug said.
I’m abandoned unloved and alone
Your skin isn’t grimy
Your shell keeps you slimy
I shelter 'neath logs or a stone."
"Ah but you," said the snail, "are so lucky
For you live the life of the free.
Before I relaxes I must pay my taxes
I”m a slave to the bureaucracy."

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