Here is most of Frosty Reflections on a Snowy Evening --
by Robert Frostbite (a couple lines or so are missing near the end)

Whose Buick's this?
How should we know?
The keys are there,
Hop in, let's go!
We hear the village cops below,
They're closing in,
So leave us blow.
The night is dark,
The hour is late --
So speed right past that turnpike gate!
They may jot down the license plate,
But what care we?
It's not our crate!
This heap's got pick-up, man alive1
Cruises at ninety-five!
Power ash trays, all that jive!
????
But we've a zig-zag course to keep
To shake the cops before we sleep.
To shake the cops before we sleep.