Just somthing to add to the family of Dust Bunnies and Laundry Hampsters

Out in the garage when the mechanics have gone home,
is a strange creature that lives there on its own.
Its fur is the color of motor oil, and it smells kind of funky,
from the tailpipe of a '57 Chevy climbs the Grease Monkey.

Seeing that all are gone, it gets right on the case,
making sure the bolts are stripped and nuts are in the wrong place.
It leaves grease stains on the suede white seats that were just installed,
and rigs up the heater system to just pump in new smog.

It adds water to the gas tank with a candy bar or two,
and replaces the motor oil with an unidentifiable black goo.
It fixes the windshield wipers to never work in rain,
and plays with the tailpipe so it smokes more than a train.

It drains all the batteries by playing the radios,
and lets air from the tires (just five pounds or so ).
It makes headlights blink on and off whenever police are near,
and causes the horn to just go off when you are trying to steer.

It runs to the office to fill out order forms as happy as it can get,
it likes to find its parts in Spain, Africa and Tibet.
They send the parts on a slow boat from so far away,
that when the right one finally arrives , you will be old and gray.

Then its time to do the bill, for monkeys like to add,
for coffee breaks it gets paid by the minute, the result is rather sad.
When the bill is added up the monkey goes back to bed,
in the tailpipe of its '57 Chevy while monkey dreams fill its head.

So if your car breaks down on the side of the road,
inspect carefully the garage in which you will be towed.
If you should see monkey tracks up and down the shelves,
know a grease monkey comes out at night to do the work itself.