It seems much of my time
Goes to maintaining my body
Like I'm an old classic car
Made in 1988, out of production now.
I have to replace this belt, refurbish that fender, buff out that headlamp,
And all the time cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.
It's true what they say,
They don't make em like they used to.
Kids these days, they blow an emotion-gasket whenever they hit a hole in the road, when someone says their nose is too big, or their collar bones are crooked, or a bully pushes them into the mud.
We have to bring the whole car community together and figure out how to fix the damaged parts and make certain the road is patched up too.
I'd like to think that's not me, that I'm one of the last of a dying breed, like I'm a knock- around guy who isn't susceptible to ridicule, but it's not true.
Ive required constant nurturing at times and positive reinforcement, like your paint job looks good! Your wheels are shiny and you run just fine, better than most!
Who am I to make someone ashamed for being who they are and how their family takes care of them?
To tell them they're a real Mary for being like an electric car, all sustainable, advanced in design and progressive in philosophy.
On the outside, I can act like a real mean muscle machine, a GTO, built to growl and smash the competition.
But on the inside, I'm a 4 cylinder accord, just happy to hear the radio playing and feel the wind thru my hand.