One cannot play the alphabet game, the signs are too far below,
And the license plate game is likewise moot, no cars zip to and fro.
One could play the I Spy game, at least a round or two
Until it’s apparent that the objects in view are limited to just a few.
Name That Tune is out, ’cause other passengers aren’t amused,
When you sing an off key Yellow Submarine and they all feel abused.
So I’ll twiddle my thumbs and wiggle my ears the better to pass the time
Or maybe I’ll write silly poems, some may even rhyme.