My Rusty Can Thomas & Friends

That can is crusty and old
Kinda creaky and cold
No, it can't hold your hand
And it's not made of gold
It ain't much of a talker and it can't sit or stand
Why do you love that rusty can?

He may be squeaky and loud
And he can't race around
But if you tell him a secret
He won't make a sound
No, he won't hug you back
But he'll stay 'til the end
Oh, man, I love my rusty can

Bum, bum, bum, bum
He's a thin piece of tin
He's a bucket of junk
He's so icky and sticky
And full of gunk
But he means so much more to me than I ever planned
Oh, man, I love my rusty can

He may be squeaky and loud
And he can't race around
But if you tell him a secret
He won't make a sound
No, he won't hug you back
But he'll stay 'til the end
Oh, man, I love my rusty can