Here I sit, broken hearted,
rolled into the corner only to gather dust
yearning to be loved, a little grease or maybe some air for one of my tires, even a warm hand touching the hood, opening a door
every day I wake hoping today is the day,
as the sun comes up, my hopes grow,
Quiet, I hear foot steps, the big door latch clicks, is today the day? the door slides open, the sun shines in, is today the day?
The man who's supposed to be taking care of me walks in, oh no he's going back over to that oversized thing parked in the doorway. Maybe he's going to pull it out side to get it out of my way. It sounds like it has nasal problems every time it starts, then I have to breath it's foul gases. Finally it's moving, is today the day? Shhh my caretakers coming back and he left that damn thing running, my heart sinks. It's not looking good today, the door slides shut. DAMM that big truck! When will I be loved? Here I sit broken hearted! Gathering dust and hoping my day will come.