(A true story of my first car)

 

The Morris 1800 motor car

Was not designed to travel very far;

It was the first one that I bought

And, sensibly, you might have thought

For ninety quid that I’d been caught

With “MUG” stamped on my head.

 

I sat a metre distance from Our Gert;

There was no opportunity to flirt;

So far apart I got no chance

To get my hand inside her pants;

But blimey! You could hold a dance

Inside that motor car.

 

But as a means of transport quite U/S;

It only made two journeys, I confess;

The first one with the steering stiff

(The trouble was a dicky diff);

The second just a half trip if

You’re counting the return.

 

Made with all the care and dedication

British Leyland placed in their creations;

Precision built (well, more or less);

It spawned the Ital and Princess

Iconic marques which dealt distress

To owners everywhere.

 

They carried on assembling shoddy shite

While foreign cars were built for running right;

Soon British Leyland felt the squeeze

As we bought cars from overseas

Italian, French and Japanese;

No wonder they went bust.

 

But mine came from a colleague and a friend;

My sister’s husband thought that it would mend;

He wanted it; I wanted rid;

So call me sharp – that’s what I did

I sold it him for ninety quid

(I saw his head said “MUG”.