The Car Lot
Once upon two months, so dreary, while I slaved so weak and weary
Over many curt and jaded customers, beckoned to my showroom floor
While I prodded, nearly begging, suddenly there came a dreading,
as if all my dreams were heading, heading out my office door.
Only this and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was on a Chrysler fender
Where I pointed out the ding that made my customer uproar.
Eagerly, I wished the morrow, vainly, I had sought to borrow
from my happy place to harrow, harrow up my pride, now sore.
For the rare and radiant placement in an office with a door.
My nameplate here, forevermore.
And the stressful, sad, uncertain rustling of each credit application
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before
So that now, to still beating of my head, I stood repeating,
Three bankruptcies and four collections, zero down, and you want more?!
"You will never get approved, take your kids, return no more."
This is it, and nothing more.
Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,
Dave! said I, or Morgan! Truly your forgiveness I implore
But the fact is I'm not happy, so my future I'll be mapping
Elsewhere where I'll keep my conscience and my ethics past the door
Onto a brighter future waiting, for the job I won't be hating
And to the dealership I'm saying, "So long sucker's!"
"Nevermore."
