They say romance can sweep a girl from off her feet

but you lift yours with a tut as I hoover underneath

then mash the volume button till all that we can hear

is ALL SCOUSERS LOVE TO NICK HUB CAPS.

It’s Clarkson on Top Gear.

As they load each other’s rides with anvils for racing in the Bahamas

it’s the televisual progeny of Jeremy Beadle and Judith Chalmers.

Only WE never go anywhere. We’re always stuck indoors of late,

you only need to hear the opening riffs, you start to salivate.

I know it’s your favourite programme, you watch it like a slave,

but, sometimes there’s three in this relationship. You, me and Dave.

I don’t understand why the show has got you in its thrall;

it’s just like bloody Pokemon, you’ve got to catch them all.

I’m afraid that if they cancelled it I wouldn’t be any sorrier

than Clarkson was when he insulted the French,

the Chinese,

Indians,

Vegetarians,

Environmentalists,

Mexicans,

workers on strike,

truck drivers,

serial killers,

and Swampy the eco-warrior.

Tell me, what has it got that I haven’t? Even the blondes in the background stare

and barely look semi-impressed, even by Hammond’s hair

Richard Hammond – the puppy-eyed hamster who has no clue where he’s going

Takes shopping trolleys off-road for Morrisons; the Manga version of Mark Owen –

Not even he is grabbing their attention - and he’s meant to be the cute one

Though maybe those who think that way are watching with the mute on.

I hope it’s not a sexual thing - not for Clarkson, dear God, no.

Oh - Don’t tell me you harbour fantasies for the so-called Captain Slow.

But as it’s on 24/7 it’s like you’ve got it on tap;

you rebuff my caresses and push me off your power lap

Can I tempt you with my bodywork? Can I tempt you with a beer?

Can I tempt you by tearing off leather driving gloves with my teeth

– to Chris Rea?

Is that not Clarkson enough for you? I’m doing all I can.

I’ll go anywhere, Malaga, Majorca, the Algarve , Faro;

we can go to Bucharest and hire a Dacia Sandero.

What’s that? Shush? I see.

Some say he’s confused by unwarranted attention

from men whose appetites contradict convention.

His suit’s clean and white but his stance is defensive.

We can only assume he won’t find us offensive.

Would he keep his helmet on? Is he small or big?

I don’t know. All we know is, I lost my lover to the Stig.