The Ford is my auto, I shall not walk;
It maketh me lie under it in queer postures,
It leadeth me into trouble;
For its sake I go into the paths of debt;
Yea, though I understand my Ford perfectly, I fear much evil, for the radius rods might break;
And if it has a blow-out in the presence of my enemies, I anoint the tires with patches.
Surely the thing will not follow me all the days of my life, Or I will dwell in the house of poverty forever.
Jacksonville Post, October 24, 1914, page 1