There once was a time when General Motors
Built a car that was named LaSalle,

With a water-cooled, flathead, V-8 type engine,
Fit for a Capone named Al,

These luxury vehicles were appreciated
By some old iron dealers like Jack,

In front of his house, midst old engine blocks
Sat two coupes with jump seats in the back,

You really would have to realize
That this was in fifty-one,

His once-coveted cars were hulks,
Vintage thirty-nine thru forty-one,

We used to play in his treasured relics,
With manual shifts on the floor,

Jack didn't realistically hope
That they'd cruise highways as before,

Sumner was our cousin-in-law's family name --
Born somewhere, sometime in the south,

But he never used the vernacular --
"Have mercy" or "Shut my mouth,"

He was a junk dealer, but with exquisite taste,
LaSalles appealed to Jack

Because Sumner was a median income man --
Loved an alter ego Cadillac.

by D. Edgar Murray 01/30/2000.