My Forty-Three Ford

I had a special little Ford That was so shiny black It was a tiny two-door coop With a brake light in the back I paid out all my money One hundred twenty-five There was a clutch and a brake So I could stay alive I think it was a '43 Though people said "not likely" "They did not make them in that year" But there it was...so sprightly! I had a car though I was young, I think I was sixteen Safety didn't interest me, But my car stayed shiny and clean It had a quirk, it's cause unknown The brakes would heat and seize Used my strength to push the pedal But thrilled to feel the breeze As to the little brake light Right there in the middle The brakes got hot; the light stayed on And never dimmed a little I'd park the car so it could cool The light finally gave relief The longer I drove, the hotter it got That was my belief I no longer had a need to explain Why the light refused to dim Even during the cooling rain On my car with the fancy trim I wonder as I think of then How did I stay alive? Was I indestructible? My main thought was – I could drive!