Hei, Henry Ford

I'm probably not better than most,
I bought a car and hoped for the best,
thinking life would be like in the commercials.
With sleek chrome on the fender and hood,
where the bees hum and the mice dance,
but the dream burst like hope for a good
exam.
For gas and oil and antifreeze
cost more than a truckload of candy boxes
and don't taste half as good.
And summer tires and winter tires and bulbs and rims
cost as much as what the engine swallows,
also all the fancy extras.
Yes, you get automatic transmission and reclining seats,
headrests, reverse lights, and 1000 meters
spread out over 24 small months.
Yes, I calculated that in the course of a year
the car I paid thousands for
cost more bacon than a homebuyer must borrow.

Chorus:
Hey, Henry Ford, what have you done,
traded car exhaust for horse shit.
it was so well-intentioned,
but now it's too late,
because progress has gone too fast.

An average Norwegian with
an average salary
has three-quarters of a car and half a garage,
two pigs in the woods and dreams of a cabin in Hurum.
He doesn't believe in God and not much in the devil,
but that the DMV is both their representative,
and blessed are those who can park in the city center.
80, 50, No passing!
90, 70, End of the highway!
Get out the checkbook, mom, here comes the cops.
No through traffic, no parking, no stopping.
Simplified fine in a plastic envelope.
If we can't find a place to park, we'll run out of soup.
Yes, I long for the old days,
with tricycles and horse manure and grandpa.
Back when leather was leather and glass was glass and not plastic. And if He who was in charge when the world began had thought you and I should have a car,
every child would be born with a parking spot.

Chorus:
Hey, Henry Ford, what have you done.
Traded car exhaust for horse shit.
It was so well-intentioned,
but now it's too late,
because progress has gone too fast.
Come with me on a trip in the blue
in a rusty deregistered Peugeot.