Im waiting for my motor car

I’m waiting for my motor car

It’s up there on the ramp

There’s something rather wrong with it

It needs a good revamp

I love my little run around

Even with those baby seats

Which stop me picking up my friends

More room for toys and sweets

The sweets, though, are sugar free,

Ha, delusions setting in 

Who do you think you’re kidding?

Their father? No not him

Now every doting grand mama

And grandpa – I’ve no doubt

Spoil the little angels, so they won’t fret orpout

To have them in the car at all

Is fun at any price

But bits of lego, sticky fingers, mud and stuff ‘snot nice

So I need my little motor car

I need it right away

To strip it of the mess that’s there

Then hoover, wash and spray

My friends and I are dressing up

To go out for the night

And if the car is clean and fresh

We’ll start the evening right

It’s just the squeak that worries me

I hate to be dramatic

Oh – I’ve just been told it’s fine

The mechanic is emphatic

It isn’t engine, brakes or oil

A state devotely to be wished

No. No. The answer is clear he laughed

It’s something plastic – squished

It’s blue & yellow with bits of green

A pointy big red beak

It was stuck between the seat & back

And that produced the squeak

So I have learned, that from now on

I’ll ignore that Burger chain

No food. No drink. No toys – in fact

I won’t go there again