Moldy rust

Bingo! I’ve found it.
Eureka! It’s here!
Let’s go on a ride,
the night sky,
seems fuller than you thought tonight.
Strikebreakers broken.
System cracked,
like a cheap bike lock.
Habits are the death of nuance
the brownish crust on green,
moldy rust eats the machine.
Day by day we’re out of years.
Bleeding inbetween the gears.