Yesterday morning, while driving to work, Malvina Reynold’s song “Little Boxes” popped into my mind.

And I pondered it it. All that snide condescension toward people who live unexciting lives, and are able to own houses, however small.

Malvina Reynolds, of course, was a socialist, so she dreamed of something better for the masses. And it occurred to me to wonder, “What kind of life would she wish for ordinary people?”

I have to assume the glorious Soviet Union must have been her model. Delightful accommodations like those in the picture, where the happy workers shared a fulfilling communal existence.

And so I wrote my own version of the song, which you may read below:

Massive boxes in the city,
Massive boxes made of muddy-putty.
Massive boxes in the city,
Massive boxes all the same.
There’s a gray one, and a . . . gray one,
And a grayish one, and a grayer one.
And they’re all made out of muddy-putty,
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the boxes
All went to the university,
Where they studied social science
And they came out all the same.
And there’s teachers, and inspectors,
And there’s caregivers and there’s bureaucrats,
And they all watch David Letterman,
And they have no sense of shame.

I’m rather pleased with that. I especially like the “muddy-putty.” In fact, I like it so well I’m half convinced I must have stolen it from somebody without knowing it. If you know who I borrowed it from, let me know.

Lars Walker is the author of several fantasy novels, the latest of which is West Oversea.