My Beautiful Rusty Body
Mint condition - brand new transmission and loaded. I used to fit that description.
You should've seen me brand new. My owner had the only key to my ignition.
But one day I heard him say he was selling me and moving away. That was the
End of life, as I knew it. New owner left me in the rain. My seats got stained
And I was covered with dirt. I couldn't look at myself in my side mirrors.
Under the hood my belts were worn, can't recall when my oil was last drained.
Tires patched, fenders dented, then he hatched a scheme to sell me for junk.
In a tizzy, like some old Tin Lizzie, I knew I was bound for the graveyard of cars.
Forty years stuck in this place, torn apart like I've been wounded in wars.
Useless now because the best parts of me have either been stolen or sold.
Lordy, I was zesty, zipping and zooming down highways. It stinks to be so old.
Rust! Corroded with it from my hardtop all the way down to my hubcaps. I take
Umbrage with anyone who thinks I'm ugly. Look beyond my flaws and you'll
See that my classic lines are still beautiful, just shabby chic. You don't have to
Take my word for it. Google me and take a gander at the beauty I was in my
Youth. Don't be uncouth and crude. You'd be rude to call me an old rust bucket!
Bumper still feels like it's intact. In fact, my front grill still seems to be in place
On this old worn out body of mine. Headlights long busted, hood rusted shut.
Doggone it! I can't see too good any more with broken head lights on my face.
You thinking about restoring me? I heard the rumor. I hope it's not scuttlebutt.
6/14/16
Copyright © Marti Sutherland | Year Posted 2016
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