he was this kinda genius…didn’t know it…could answer any question you had…’bout anything…take an engine apart and put it back together blindfolded…tell each part by the feel of it in his hands…knew a spark plug was bad just by the smell of it…like he had a secondary sense ’bout him…

he’d take these slapped together cars and race ’em out on the turnpike in the early mornin’ darkness…old Chevys and beat-up Fords…Chryslers he’d stripped down clean…even had a couple of VW’s…loved watchin’ old Herbie The Love Bug movies with Dean Jones…one of his heroes…

had these dreams of bein’ a real success one day…not havin’ to lift a finger for another fella’…just work for himself…fixin’ cars…racin’…travelin’ ’round the world like Herbie…that’s what he wanted…that’s what he wanted…

never left Johnson City…spent his days workin’ for the man…all his paychecks spent on car parts and Pampers…couple of kids came his way…seemed to drift his dreams back a bit…quite a bit…to where there weren’t any dreams at all anymore…just thoughts…just thoughts…

would’ve could’ve should’ve…danced ’round his head at night…would’ve could’ve should’ve…choices we make…