She worked at a car wash
With, like, a thousand guys
And I was shy and awkward
(At least I was, girl-wise)
I brought my car there weekly
And there she could be seen
Washing my car, although it
Already was quite clean
I just wanted to see her
And say something so great
That she’d decide, of those guys
I was the guy to date
At no time did I ask her
I never said a word
Because I thought my fancies
Were patently absurd
But now a different fancy
Has come into my head
That much of who we could be’s lost
In what is never said
I have to say you write it
in six and seven beat;
then gallop up to hoofbeat eight –
no mean poetic feat…
True that.