The Bat Mobile was a mid-80's Mazda
That was white enough to showcase rust
Like a spaghetti sauce stain
On a starched white shirt.
And while we waited for the daily defrost
I'd watch you blow your smoke-like breath
Into our gloves to warm them up.
Your sidekick always sat shotgun
To watch you shift and pretend
We were chasing the Joker, or the Penguin,
Or some evil villain that wouldn't escape.
We never installed that ejector seat
So now it's buried in some garbage heap.
Where rust is just rust, and a car is just a car.
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