Mr. Bad Luck

While playing Captain Ahab, blacktop whaler,
I met Moby Dick in a tractor trailer.
He drifted across the double yellow line;
I swerved and managed to miss him just in time.
I came to a stop hanging off a steep cliff
With one question dangling in my mind, "What if?"
I took one look in my rearview mirror
And let out a shout shrink-wrapped in fear,
"Here comes bad luck and his wrecking crew!"
He said, "That's Mr. Bad Luck to you!"

They told me they wanted some big bucks for bail;
I had no choice but to spend the night in jail.
I made the most of my time there for a while,
Counting every brick and every ceiling tile.
I thought to myself, "Things are going quite well.
I've got heat and lights and my own private cell."
Then I took a larger look around,
And I let out a high moaning sound,
"Oh, no! Bad luck has found me here too!"
He said, "That's Mr. Bad Luck to you!"

I didn't know that getting run off the road
Was a hanging offense in their penal code,
But there I was with my neck inside a noose
And there wasn't any way I could break loose.
My head snapped forward and hit the steering wheel
This hanging was a dream; the accident was real.
No pain! I came through it all unhurt.
"Not so!" cried the blood that stained my shirt.
I screamed, "Curse you death; curse bad luck too!"
He said, "That's Mr. Bad Luck to you!"