Oh little town of Darien, how still we see thee lie,
Upon the Sound, where fish abound, and Metro-North runs by.
Yet, on the Post Road rideth, an everlasting crowd
The traffic’s stopped, we need a cop,
To guide us home unbowed.
Now getting to the City was such a royal pain
We used to drive, but nine to five, a time waste it became
I-95’s a nightmare, more trucks at every turn
To Metro-North, do we make forth
Our daily travels earn.
But hark, there is no parking, the station lots are full
A waiting list, now doth exist, for permits, that’s no bull
Ten years I now have waited, my permit yet to buy
Retirement’s soon, my hopes are doomed, while trains keep rolling by.
My bicycle I rideth, to Darien each day.
Noroton Heights, it gives me frights, and is too far away.
So there I lock my ten speed, praying when I make it back
That bike’s still there, without despair, awaiting on the rack.
Oh little town of Darien, to me you are still home
I only wish, were I Commish, of D.O.T. I’d loan
The millions that are needed, for parking lots so grand
That all in need, they could succeed,
Commuting ‘cross the land.