My old jalopy of better days past,
with your fenders hanging off
and old worn out parts,
as you go rattling down the road,
please make it up to the next bend.
If you hum to me,
I’ll sing to you the “Jalopy Serenade.”
I loved you very much
in the days gone by
and even more today.
But I miss your humming that
sounded so sweet back then.
Please make it up to the next bend.
When you die, I promise to give you
the grandest funeral I can give.
I’ll bring over the Pope from the Vatican
to preside over the ceremony,
hire a choir to sing
the most beautiful, mournful dirges,
place you in a mausoleum
with all the rest of the VIPs,
and bring you roses every day.
Sp please don’t die until “after”
you’ve made it “around” the bend.