A Land Chantey Of Cars, Old Cars

I just write a little poem

Of landed chantey variety

To say hello, my car is fine

My bank account is overtaxed

My car runs smooth and I am pleased


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So why oh why can’t we

Just catch a break

With cars that get repairs

Without the horn of plenty

Looking like my check account

And costing so much money?


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I just miss a simpler car time

Of junkers bought with dry handshakes

To say hello, this car is mine!

My bank account still overtaxed

But with a clean new junker


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So why oh why can’t we

Go back to crumbs

That go beneath the seats

And coins that fell from pockets

And a huge trunk for storage

Of stuff that never meant much?

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So why oh why can’t we

Go back to Duke

And Bug Eye who could fix

With lick and spit and promise

And run a motor up loud

And tell those bullshit tales?

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I just write a little poem

Of landed chantey variety

To say hello, my car is fine

My sailing o’er the tarmac

Is smooth and I am pleased

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