Show 1 1 t My Icy Old Ford t 4 1 Jo S 44 4 4 F rF 4 Henry Spriggs was in a poetical mind one day this week and the fo to lowing was was was' the result of his hla I ruminations Of my old Ford everybody makes fun They say it was born In nineteen one Maybe It was but this Ill I'll bet She's good for many a long mile yet The windshields windshield's gone gone and and the radiator radiator radiator radi radi- ator leaks The fan belt saps gips and the horsepower horsepower horse horse- power ower squeaks She shakes the screws and the nuts all loose But Dut I 1 get 40 miles milea on a gallon of ot Juice When I cant can't get gas I burn kerosene kerosene kerosene kero kero- sene And Ive I've driven home on Paris Paris' green She has has' a rattle in front and a grind in the rear And a Chinese puzzle pune for a gear Her lIer coils colis are dead and her plugs wont won't fire I And her piston rings are balling hall ng wire But Dut in spite of this she pulls me through And that's about all any Ford ord can do With cars they give you tools Some extra parts and a book of ofru ru rUes es Some wire pinchers and a pair of shears Ar Are all I 1 have carried In fifteen ye years a aShe rs And If I live to see seo the day She falls to pieces like the one horse shay If It old Hank Ford stays In the game garno I Il buy another by the same durn name |