Show MY AUTO OF THEE my auto of thee short road to poverty of thee I 1 chant I 1 blew a pile of dough on you three years ago and now you refuse to go or won t or cant through town and countryside you were my joy and pride A happy day I 1 loyed loved thy gaudy hue thy nice white tires new out but now youre down and out for true in every way to thee old rattle box came many bumps and knocks for thee I 1 grieve badly thy top Is torn frayed are the seats and worn the whooping cough affects ti thy y horn ido I 1 do believe thy perfume swells the breeze while good folks choke gild and sneeze As we pass by I 1 paid for thee a price atwould buy a mansion twice now yelling ice I 1 wonder why aby thy motor has the grip thy spark plug has the pip and woo woe la Is thine 1 I too have suffered chills ague and kindred ills endeavoring to pay my bills since thou wert mine gone is my bankroll ban kroll now no more atwould choke a cow i As one before yet it if I 1 had the mon so help me john amen id luy buy a car again and speed some more |