The mechanic wipes his hands with a greasy cloth, says,
Time breaks down the integrity of any vehicle,
which one day may surprise you at the top of the hill,
shock you with how much of the strength you expended getting to the top
you really should have conserved for the downhill run.
You’ve been relying on the same parts,
the same brake pads, all these years,
and although on the uphill climb
the wear’s not been too bad on them,
from now on, heading straight downhill,
you’ll be riding the brakes hard all way,
pretty quickly finding yourself going metal on metal.
Gravity may be your friend keeping you attached to the earth,
but when it comes to driving, it’s anything but,
once you’re headed all the way to the bottom
with no letup to the finish line.
You will feel soon enough as though
you’re putting your foot through the floorboard,
and BAM, just like Fred Flintstone,
you find your foot on the pavement,
the sole of your shoe on fire.
I see his point, tell him I’ll take a new set of pads.
He says he’s sorry to tell me,
but they don’t make them for my model year anymore.