I was standing in line in Omaha
And the guy in front didn’t move
Guess I wasn’t paying attention
For he seemed unnaturally smooth
And then I realized the reason
My friend, he wasn’t alive at all
He was chiseled so fine and perfect
And like so many men he was tall
I looked all around where I stood
And hoped I hadn’t chattered away
To a guy who was real in my imagination
But was only a statue display
And then I looked around some more
There were statues all over the place
So my friends and I got real busy
And got right into their space
If you ever get to Omaha, Nebraska
You must go to the Union Station
For this is where we found
Such delightful recreation!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem