Me and my old Mustang were built the same year — A lot of things have come and gone, but we're still here. I was born in Queens on a clear March afternoon; He rolled off the Dearborn assembly line in June.   I remember when I was a kid, maybe 4 or 5, Telling my dad when I grow up, that's what I'm gonna drive. It took a while — a few cars, a few owners in between — But we always had a rendezvous, me and this machine.   Me and my old Mustang, we're essentially the same: A faithful little motor on a long, lean frame. No fancy frills or add-ons, no spoilers, no tricks; Just a stock coupe in white with an inline six.   It's got that cool-looking hood with the turn signal lights — I get a kick out of hanging my lefts and my rights. The hubcaps are original, the seats are two-tone blue; Tune-ups are a breeze: my old Mustang runs like new.   Me and my old Mustang, we like to drive real slow, Let the people get a look, toot the horn at folks we know. We often make them smile.  We've been known to change a mood; An old man regards us kindly, a kid says, "nice car, dude!"   Me and my old Mustang, we go riding into town With Sgt. Pepper's turned up and the windows rolled down. What's that?  Oh thanks, I washed and waxed it earlier today. Sure, hop in — there's plenty of room — we're headed that way.