Bernard, Bernard, Motor Car,
You are quite near yet go so far,
Cruising down the open road,
You help me use my Highway Code.
I remember when I first saw you,
Your shiny paint the colour of poo,
When the man said how much you cost,
My bank account you nearly bost.
On the day that you were bought,
"You're far too big," I worried thought,
"I'll probably crash you in a trice,"
I didn't think you very nice.
We went to get you Monday night,
Oh! I had a terrible fright,
I couldn't control you to save my life,
You caused me so much bloody strife.
My dad decided you were ace,
And on the drive, he made a space,
To park you safely in at night,
Until the day was big and bright.
Although you don't go very fast,
Your MOT you have passed,
Tax, insurance, you have both,
The licence did not cost the most.
Your insides are brown and cream,
Your engine's big, goes like a dream,
The radio that cost so much,
Merely adds that funky touch.
You don't cost that much to run,
Filling your tank is so much fun,
I don't mind a tenner a week,
For you, any price is cheap.
A while ago, you were poorly,
Your gearbox bearings were hurting sorely,
We took you apart and sorted you out,
Then went down the pub for some stout.
You always make that pinking sound,
Especially coming home from town,
It worries me so very much,
And only stops when I dip the clutch.
Are you happy little car?
Are you tired from travelling far?
Do you want to have a rest?
Albert Looms' is definitely best.
But saying that, I would cry,
If you were to ever die,
Because you are my little prince,
Even with your holes and dints.
Bernard, Bernard, I love you,
Bernard, Bernard, you know it's true,
Bernard, Bernard, colour of poo,
Bernard, Bernard, I LOVE YOU!!!
©Cathryn Sharpe