Terror a la Carte

I was going down to Florida to see my aunt, swim, surf, and maybe to sail.
But when I flew into town I got a call from the sheriff, saying, "Get this lady out of jail!
In our industrial corridor, though she cannot drive, she's one mean mad motorist to fear.
She's run truckers off the road, and she's the fifth this week I've brought in, and I've had it up to here
with those golf carts, and she's got them all screaming from the golf carts,
and I wish I were dreaming about golf cart terrorism,
golf carts, terror a la carte."

We heard a noise at night, and we called the police, and they came, but three hours too late.
I asked, "Hey, what's the matter?" They said, "Urgent business comes first—it's a matter of state.
We have to ticket any drivers without signals or seatbelts, air bags, mirrors, or brakes.
We're writing hundreds at the links, retirement villages. You just don't know the hours it takes,
policing those golf carts, and you want to run screaming from the golf carts,
and you wish you were dreaming about golf cart terrorism,
golf carts, terror a la carte."

With a growing population, the state's universities are stretching the academic job.
Filling it in without budget support, some look at faculty as one vicious mob.
They're trying distance learning to reach all developments built on old fields of manure.
They'll spend on capital improvements, trim all teaching lines, and the only ones left with tenure
will be those golf carts, and you want to run screaming from the golf carts,
and you wish you were dreaming about golf cart terrorism,
golf carts, terror a la carte.

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