The old white Mazda winks at other cars
No car spares time to wish her good luck
On the side road she waits for the sun and the moon
The hot rays and the cool windy nights
"Hey you! Don't think you are young you can fly!
You better enjoy your time while you are at it
For the years will come you will end up like me
Out of breath sucking into a corner for history be made"
The beauty once exported out from Japan
Braving the seas looking for new adventures
As she landed in the new land she could fly
For years she did her parade on the roads
Now she is old; rusty body; faded decorations
The history on the old white Mazda of yesteryears
Many new plated cars revving by leaving her far behind
The years gone she knows she has her history to tell
She wakes up when the owner returns
She revs it up into the night on the roads
The rusty body can be painted as new
The interior can be made over as a new look
The old white Mazda park in her lot
Near the garden wall as the days ink by
Many new plated cars ignoring her
She doesn't mind she has her time and history
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