The power-giving tank is empty
  And the engine’s partly blown.
  There’s also not a lot of rubber
   Left on the two back tires.
    The steering wheel is badly cracked
     And the rear view mirror is missing.
      But somehow it still runs just fine.
       Every morning she fires it up
        And chugs around the neighborhood
         In what seems like a waste of time
          As nothing really gets accomplished.
           Valued as a vintage model and for
            The speed it once produced,
             The chrome is polished every day
              And the radio still plays.
               It belongs in a car museum
                But the owner never will give in.
                 She says she’ll keep the engine revving
                  For maybe another year or two.
                           ljm