The Parts Man Prayer
I work behind the counter
In a motorcycle store
Sometimes I'm called a genius
Sometimes I'm called much more.
I say that I'm no mechanic
But when their job goes sick
Everyone comes in and asks me
What makes the damn thing tick.
I'm supposed to know the number
Of nuts and bolts and gears
For every cycle ever made
For more than a hundred years.
I'm supposed to have the answer
For everything unknown
To every Tom, Dick, and Harry
For all their questions thrown.
My life would be a pleasure
And I'd grin from ear to ear
If only they would tell me
Their Model, Make, and Year.