You walked into the parking lot surrounded
By the smell of cheap perfume, gasping for air,
I'd actually climbed 2 flights of stairs,
And the man who brought us to the garage
Told me that my poor baby, my poor sweet car
Was to be left in there for more than a week,
She'd sprung a leak and the doctor was saying
So much that I wish he'd just not even speak,
Cursed old man, watch when you drink the beers!
The double trouble had turned into a smashing spiral,
My banged up car was so good through the years,
It made my boring reclusive life seem so meaningful.