Rat Rod

Ain’t no trailer queen can match it,

ain’t no Corvette that can catch it,

The tires do not match,

and the fender has a scratch,

Rat Rod!…Rat Rod!….

Yes, it’s  sorta’ odd.

It ain’t built for show,

but it’ll damn sure go,

The patina it can’t hide,

‘cuz the paint is cracked and dried,

Rat Rod!…Rat Rod!….

I know it’s kinda’ odd.

The engine ain’t so bright,

but it gives the cops a fright,

Both mufflers are blowed out,

bustin’ ears no doubt,

Rat Rod!…Rat Rod!….

Maybe it is flawed.

Four speed makes it swifter,

Eight Ball on the shifter,

Tractor grill up front,

this car has got some grunt,

Rat Rod!…Rat Rod!….

Wow and Oh, my God!

The seats are old and worn,

but it’s got an ooga horn,

The brakes are modern discs,

to minimize the risks.

Rat Rod!…Rat Rod!….

It needs another mod.

The floor is rusted out,

patched with tin and grout,

Some don’t know what it is,

but they can take a whiz,

Rat Rod!… Rat Rod!….

Ain’t no fake façade.

The owner will confess,

the title is a mess,

we don’t know what it was,

he built it just because,

Rat Rod!…Rat Rod!…

Let’s just all applaud.

LDT July 15, ‘23

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