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Baz
Yoda
Offline
Thinking of the short time my midget and I have had together, sigh.
To the tune of <u>"Battle Hymn of the Republic"</u>
He was just a rookie wrencher when he brought his midget home,
Round wheel arch, ribcase trans and bumpers made of chrome,
He had big plans, a credit card, to car shows he would roam,
And it aint gonna drive no more…..
Gory, gory, what a stupid thing I’ve done,
Gory, gory, what a stupid thing I’ve done,
Gory, gory, what a stupid thing I’ve done,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
Under the red bonnet he had no clue what to do,
Smogging stuff, some twin SUs and a dizzy stuck with glue,
He bought a Haynes, a Horlers and a Vizard bible too,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
He turned the key, he pumped the gas, the motor came to life,
It coughed and puked and quit with no good reason for this strife,
The wiring smoked, the starter cried, the problems now are rife,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
The seats were torn, the dash was cracked, the carpet faded gray,
If I eat more donuts then the floorpan will give way,
Two years ago this LBC was covered in dung and hay,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
He got to work removing with his shiny new torque wrench,
A this and that, some bits and bobs and laid them on the bench,
“I don’t need this, what is that?” My fists began to clench,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
There was blood upon the fenders, there was oil upon the floor,
The iffy trans was leaking goo, to clean it was a chore,
This LBC has won the war, this man could take no more,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
He bought some springs, rebuilt the brakes and valves arrived a new,
Then turned the key once more NOTHING! The carbs began to spew,
He dropped his wrench, he cried and sobbed, it broke this man in two,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
There was hope on the horizon in the form of BCF
Lots of Spridget owners who could understand my mess,
He typed his Q’s, got answers quick, these chaps they are the best,
And it might just run once more.
He made a list of parts and things and called “The Autoist”,
A big brown box arrived a day of work that his wife missed,
She looked him square into the eye and shook her angry fist
And it aint gonna drive no more.
Now this little MG I can look upon with pride,
Can’t wait for spring to get here so I can take it for a ride,
The folks at BCF they really helped me turn this tide,
And it will just drive once more.
Glory, glory, look what I have done.
Glory, glory, look what I have done.
Glory, glory, look what I have done.
And it will just drive once more.
To the tune of <u>"Battle Hymn of the Republic"</u>
He was just a rookie wrencher when he brought his midget home,
Round wheel arch, ribcase trans and bumpers made of chrome,
He had big plans, a credit card, to car shows he would roam,
And it aint gonna drive no more…..
Gory, gory, what a stupid thing I’ve done,
Gory, gory, what a stupid thing I’ve done,
Gory, gory, what a stupid thing I’ve done,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
Under the red bonnet he had no clue what to do,
Smogging stuff, some twin SUs and a dizzy stuck with glue,
He bought a Haynes, a Horlers and a Vizard bible too,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
He turned the key, he pumped the gas, the motor came to life,
It coughed and puked and quit with no good reason for this strife,
The wiring smoked, the starter cried, the problems now are rife,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
The seats were torn, the dash was cracked, the carpet faded gray,
If I eat more donuts then the floorpan will give way,
Two years ago this LBC was covered in dung and hay,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
He got to work removing with his shiny new torque wrench,
A this and that, some bits and bobs and laid them on the bench,
“I don’t need this, what is that?” My fists began to clench,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
There was blood upon the fenders, there was oil upon the floor,
The iffy trans was leaking goo, to clean it was a chore,
This LBC has won the war, this man could take no more,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
He bought some springs, rebuilt the brakes and valves arrived a new,
Then turned the key once more NOTHING! The carbs began to spew,
He dropped his wrench, he cried and sobbed, it broke this man in two,
And it aint gonna drive no more.
There was hope on the horizon in the form of BCF
Lots of Spridget owners who could understand my mess,
He typed his Q’s, got answers quick, these chaps they are the best,
And it might just run once more.
He made a list of parts and things and called “The Autoist”,
A big brown box arrived a day of work that his wife missed,
She looked him square into the eye and shook her angry fist
And it aint gonna drive no more.
Now this little MG I can look upon with pride,
Can’t wait for spring to get here so I can take it for a ride,
The folks at BCF they really helped me turn this tide,
And it will just drive once more.
Glory, glory, look what I have done.
Glory, glory, look what I have done.
Glory, glory, look what I have done.
And it will just drive once more.
