Oil Machine

I am an oil machine of gears and clogs, parts that don't match. Gears that won't turn, clamps that won't latch. Grease and steam whistling.

Tired and alone. Made by steel, not stone.

I am a tattooed old piece with words that bend to odd to read. Cars that don't match. A crime at the scene. Grease and steam whistling.

Tired and alone. Made by steel, not stone.

No more lines. No sunsets behind. Just oil and rust. Tired and alone.