Holy mackerel! Your song reminds me of a passage in Wigfield:
"Certain everyday objects become so familiar that we forget they even exist. For instance, no one gives a second thought to tire irons until you get a flat or one bangs against your temple for a forty-minute trunk ride."
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"Certain everyday objects become so familiar that we forget they even exist. For instance, no one gives a second thought to tire irons until you get a flat or one bangs against your temple for a forty-minute trunk ride."