Wheel me gently to the garage, since my car and I must part, No more for me the record and the run. That cursed left-hand cylinder the doctors call my heart Is pinking past redemption, I am done! They′ll never strike a mixture that′ll help me pull my load. My gears are stripped, I cannot set my brakes. I am entered for the finals down the timeless untimed Road To the Maker of the makers of all makes!