I dreamed the hydraulics were speaking in psalms

Last night I dreamed I was underneath an old Crown forklift, just doing a fluid flush, and every fitting and hose was humming a kind of psalm. Not words exactly, more like pressure and release moving in a pattern that felt sacred. I woke up with my hands smelling like ATF and wondering if we confuse confession with maintenance. Maybe a machine that leaks is just telling you the truth.