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Greg loves his cars...but they donít always love him back.
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The Big Old Buick
by GAP


It was a rainy Thursday night,
when Will went out for a bite.
He turned of off Williamsburg,
on Harrison, right at the light.

He was going too fast in the Buick,
when he had to think pretty qu-ick,
for the leaf covered road was quite slick,
when he side swiped the new black Crown Vic.

The Vic was parked on the street,
No owner, nor driver, he would meet.
No one was home; all the lights were out.
The neighbors came out and gathered about.

Someone with a cell phone, offered it to Will,
So he could call home, and tell us the drill.
We arrived on the scene, no police around,
Which is a good thing, since then Iíve found.

We did the right thing, left a note on the door,
And pulled out our fender, with tools from next door.
He drove it back home, and parked in the drive,
Where the car would sit until week number five.

We ordered some parts, made in Taiwan,
Theyíre so hard to find, most old Buicks are gone.
They finally arrived, so we got out the tools,
Thought we could fix it, but found out weíre fools.

I know why bodywork is so dang expensive,
Itís hard to do; Iíve become apprehensive.
Put the part on, then take it off again,
And find out itís wrong, much to our chagrin.

Adjust this here, it pops out there,
Bustin our knuckles and pullin our hair.
We had to relinquish this foreboding task
We had no experts, no one to ask.

We took it to Maaco, the cheapest around,
Still to find out it requires flesh by the pound.
We need two more parts, before we can start,
But when it is done, the Buick will KICK ASS!

GAP 1/26/05

Nice rhyme at the end there

 
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