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