2.  No cash, no folk, no coats, no phones
    Just deadly silence besides their groans
    But then as if by magic’s hand
    Our man recalls his ex-wife’s land
    A scrap heap of forgotten cars
    It nonetheless is home to Lars

3.  Now Lars, a rather ancient Saab
    Still needed work and lacked a carb
    The girl, however, did so shiver
    Our man, therefore, must soon deliver
    So off they trot, though still quite shocked
    With hopes alive, no doors are locked!

4.  He tugs his hair and rubs his neck
    As point by point he checks the wreck
    For missing parts he scours the yard
    And with bare hands works mighty hard
    A tool kit may well best high fashion
    Alas with none he has but passion

5.  Is this the end? Our man defeated?
    Why no, his girl is all he needed
    To clean up spark plugs, set the gap
    She drops her nail file in his lap
    Her hair clips serve to bypass fuses
    While face cream oils where ’er  he chooses

6.  A fan belt, yes, a pair of tights
    Her wet-look top to bind frayed pipes
    Stiletto heels, now Heaven’s manner
    Quite handy when you crave a hammer
    For wire, there is the uplift bra
    And varnish wipes to shift old tar

1.  The night is cold with trembling stars
    Behind them, doors are locked and barred
    A pleasant meal, they’d ate in haste
    For other pleasures yet to taste
    A nightmare then befalls the pair
    My God, the Jag’s no longer there!