Again and again, I watch as you shift
gears, your hand on top of mine on the stick,
answering the motor, I learn the art,
in the language of sound, as I listen,
nothing is more beautiful than driving,
as a child, a manual transmission
noticeably appears more difficult,
driving an automatic is a bore,
answering the engine is a lost art,
gaining knowledge takes time, appreciate
an instrument in all its usefulness,
in turn, the world shifts gears, and I listen,
nothing sounds better, smoothly shifting gear,
I remember Papa, teaching me art.
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