Amidst the barren desert sands,
A sepia jalopy roams,
With rusted metal and worn out tires,
It creaks and moans and groans.
Its paint has faded with the years,
The windshield cracked and hazy,
But still it trudges on and on,
Through the desert, hot and crazy.
The driver, with his dusty hat,
And goggles on his eyes,
Navigates the rocky terrain,
Underneath the scorching skies.
The jalopy's engine sputters,
As it climbs a sandy hill,
But still it perseveres and pushes on,
With a determined, iron will.
For this old car has a story,
And memories it holds dear,
Of long-forgotten roads and journeys,
That it's traveled far and near.
And though it may be worn and tired,
And its best days may be past,
The sepia jalopy roams the desert,
And its legend will forever last.