All dressed up, yet nowhere to go,
No dinner, no theater, no symphony show.
Though I never mind, for such is my style.
It's nice to look nice when surrounded by mile
after mile of desert so bitterly cold.
But at least I don't tire of a joke rather old:
"You look like you're wearing a tux!" A faint
trace of a smile, and I say, "Who says I ain't?"