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Mechanic poem
Though I walk through the valley of broken parts
I shall fear not one thing
Because my wrench and ratchet they comfort me
Though Prepare a Lift in front of me in the presence of broken
machines
Though my hands covered with grease, my tool box run beneath
me
Surely fixed cars and many scars will follow me for the rest of my
life,
and now i will dwell in my garage for the rest of my life, strive for
the highs of life.
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