Just like my old Ford Crown Victoria
What an absurd name
Henry, bestow this gold hat on the Queen of England
Always joking, now let’s get serious
Thirty year-old piece-a-shit
Cigarette-burned upholstery
Spill-stained seats
Scarred, scratched surface
Flaws and all, despite the odds,
That engine keeps ticking
Some how, some way
That old beater gets me there,
Each night, each day
Many miles and years in radio silence
Broken
Seemingly unfixable
Til one day a slight crackle
A faint melody building
Soothing strings
Passionate piano
A most beautiful concerto
Rising and falling, filling the tired, beaten car
With love, joy, and hope
Thought it could never be musical again
Lefty Forrester 