Dear old Bess was made to rock Done three times round the mileage clock Squeals and grinding bouncing high breezing round corners trying to fly. Moving so slowly her body a state Old and rusty with holes in the grate Wheels all buckled trims all mud riding the road with the usual thud. Lights are dim bumpers all broken fumes blowing thickly pedestrians chokin’ Radio so old it gives you a blast Programs in Latin and songs from the past. Windows can’t open seats are a mess Keep on rockin’ my old darlin’ Bess. Eventually she stops no will to live Chugging and choking throttle I give Old and tired she cannot go on Engine going cold in the new light of dawn Taken to the scrap yard a cars resting place Left to be peaceful in etiquette and grace the moral of this story is obviously clear Hold on to special memories the ones you hold dear.