An Ode To My Cobra

 

She arrived a bare frame, with boxes of parts,

Her engine is waiting, I sure hope it starts,

The frame placed on stands, all level and neat,

With help from my friends to accomplish the feat.

 

The project begins, install the gas line,

Brake tubing attahed, they look just fine,

Assemble suspension, her light weight to bear,

With adjustable coil overs, and tubular frame ware.

 

Bolt on the brakes, discs in front,drum in back,

An assembly of beauty, with a shiny steering rack,

Put on new tires and wheels, install trans and motor,

Wow, she looks so good, already I love her.

 

On to the body, cut all the openings, they'll be fine,

As long as I follow the company etched line,

Then scrape, sand,and smooth with some body filler,

There's dust everywhere, this job is a killer.

 

Now I put in the electrical wires and gauges,

This part of the manual has pages and pages,

With every wire cut to length and attached tight,

Oh no, the damn high beams won't light.

 

After cussin and fussin I check wiring charts,

Believe it or not, when I push the button she starts,

The roar of a Ford Windsor is music to all,

My wife complains as pictures fall off of the den wall,

 

Once the car is fully assembled, I strip it back down,

For the flat bed ride down to Dover, the town,

After Anthony and Louie ply their painting trade,

Oh, what a thing beauty their labor has made.

 

Now back home to  assemble all of her shiny bits,

She's starting to look fast, just where she sits,

Long hours are spent installing seats and interior,

Polish all of the chrome so it looks like a mirror.

 

At last she is finished, now license and insurance,

Motor Vehicle process, requires lots of endurance,

At long last the big day is finally here,

So out of the driveway, slowly in first gear,

 

After some tenuous turns and slow speed stops,

I get a little braver, love how the side exhaust pops,

Now let me tell you about a scary ordeal,

When the secondaries opened, it was truly surreal.

 

She may not be real to those Shelby purists,

As they stand in judgement, like snobby car jurists,

But though they have loads of money to burn,

They'll never understand the satifaction you earn.

 

When you know, every nut, bolt, and screw,

Was wrenched in place by no one but you,

I know she is more than just a nice car,

I've been told by many she's a cut above par.

 

Don't be a heel and ask, "Is It Real or a Kit?"

Or how much it cost, this gives me a fit,

Just stand there and admire her sleek sexy look,

If you ask me real nice I'll show you her "Build Book".