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

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?

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

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?

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?

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