Morris Minor, Poem by Norman E Dale

I bought a Morris Minor,
well, I thought there's nothing finer,
with its dark green paintwork
and its wooden dash.
All that leather style interior,
you could see was not inferior,
so I paid two hundred quid
in cold hard cash.

So then I drove it back,
with a good spare and a jack,
and the motor sounded sweet,
as sweet could be.
It was cold when it first started,
so it spluttered and it farted,
but it soon got warm
and then I set it free.

Well the engine it just purred
and I very soon concurred,
that I'd bought myself a dream,
without a doubt.
With my right foot to the floor,
I was flying, that's for sure,
till the speedo stuck at sixty,
going flat out

Well when I got it home,
I suppose I should have known,
that my girl was not as thrilled
as I had been.
She complained that she was fonder
of a Rover or a Honda,
but she did'nt mind the fact
that it was green

So I took her and I drove,
off to Brighton and to Hove,
a bit afraid to use
the motorway.
Then we sat and watched the ships,
while we ate our fish and chips,
and we paddled in the sea
and in the spray.

Then twas' on the long drive home,
in the dark and all alone,
that I asked her if she'd like
to wear my ring.
She said she woul'nt mind,
cos' she thought that I was kind,
and as long as she was not
a passing fling.

She said she could'nt wait,
to be my wedded mate,
but she thought the Morris Minor
had to go.
It cost too much to run
and she felt that I'd been done,
shelling out to buy a banger,
that went so slow.

Well I pleaded that I loved it,
that I'd polished and I'd gloved it,
but she didn't seem to hear,
or want to know.
She just said we must begin,
and scrap this heap of tin,
either she, or else the car
would have to go.

Well it nearly broke my heart,
when I thought we'd have to part,
and a lump came to my throat
enough to moan.
So I stood out in the rain,
as she waved back from the train,
then I drove my little Morris Minor
home...