Was a time He kept it clear of grime Dusted off even a speck of soil Put in his labors all his toil To see His car scratch free.
But in this running game One after the other came Streaks upon streaks of rough embrace Leaving behind the ugly trace Of unerasable scars On his new car
Now he sings in philosophic mode *Scratch is inevitable as you run on the road You can travel only that far Beyond which waits the first scar.