When I was young and penniless,
And drove a battered car,
The tank was always near empty,
I never could go far.
When the engine coughed and spluttered
And I'd think that that was it,
It would suddenly give a cough
And decide then not to quit.
And now I'm in my dotage,
My engines just the same,
I think I'm running out of fuel,
But it busts into life again. β½π