Andy Alexandre Marcel - Das Auto lyrics

So I have this car. It's a 2003 Dodge. I don't know much about cars to tell you the truth, I didn't really have a dream car, I just knew I wanted one. Things worked out and it was pretty great...in 2003. In 2003, the car had this new car smell, I took care of it, you know? Eventually, time took it's toll, its 2006 and the car got old. It has this musty smell, it's gotten rusty. The gears are not what they once were. There's this funny noise my car makes that I've learn not to notice. And i'm not sure whether that's good or bad. So I have this car. It's a 2003 Dodge, and I love my car. I do, it's my first car. I say it like I've had other cars. I mean, the word first implies there will be other cars. A lot of people, said, ah you got your first car, you know? As though I was bound to get another one. But to tell you the truth, I haven't really envisioned myself with another vehicle. Well, that's not true, is it. When my car makes that funny noise, or when I have to pull over on cold winter nights and warm summer evenings to check if its okay, I simply wonder what it would be like if I had another car. Just that slight notion, that shred of "what if?" But I don't dwell on that what if, and I don't know if that makes a difference. Doesn't the fact that there's a shred of doubt constitute doubt nonetheless? There's a chink in my armor. A hole in my vessel. And there's something wrong with my car. But I love my car, again. She's been good to me. I had a lot of "firsts" with it. First ticket, first custom adjustments, and so on. Memories were made. This car, this car was my hub. A place only I could go. The good simply outweighs the bad. Alright. It's now 2013, it's been years. I have issues with my 2003 Dodge every other month. It's worth $3000 bucks (a gross overestimation) and I just bought new brakes for $1000. I'm patching up my car here and there. I'm placing duct tape on a chink, duct tape on my vessel. What can I say? It's not my first car. It's my only car. I have no other frame of reference besides this vehicle. That's why I can't see myself with another car. What does the other car feels like? What if it's high maintenance, or actually low maintenance? Is the other car eco-friendly or just a roaring beast? It's scary, to say the least. Some days I think I'm crazy for still having it in my garage, other days, most days, it makes perfect sense to me. So I have this car. It's a 2003 Dodge. It's 2015 now. Some days, I don't know what I'm doing with this car. She's gotten me in trouble, for her flaws, and increased wear and tear. I have to let go of my Dodge right? Let go of my Dodge and everything I've done to put her back together. Let go of my Dodge and everything she's done for me. Let go of my Dodge and letting go of a part of myself that's embedded in the seats. My friends don't like the car. They're not used to the smell, to the squeaks, to the broken rearview mirror. But I am. I am okay with this. To an extent. I told myself if I ever spent more than the dwindling value of the car, to fix the car...it'd be game over. That hasn't happened yet, but when it does, it would knock the air out of me. I'm now staring at the car, and she's simply staring back at me.