O British roads you make me ill.
You have too many bends and too many hills,
Driving you takes too much skill!
O British roads, you make me ill.
O British roads you make me queasy,
My poor little stomach can never rest easy!
I'm sorry if this poem is cheesy,
But British roads just make me queasy!
O British roads you make me moan!
And I know in this I'm not alone!
We try to smile but can only groan,
Because British roads just make us moan.
O British roads make me insane,
I'm so glad we take the train!
It's often late but causes less pain!
O British roads make me insane!
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this is cute! i'm sorry the roads suck.
ReplyDeleteyour blog is a blast to read and it sounds like you are having a wonderful time! (you know, minus the roads..)
Oh, I remember British roads, 'specially the one from the A40 to Charlbury…I have fond memories of driving it with Dad late at night in complete darkness, with rabbits perking up curiously from the hedge as we went by, or through a pea soup fog early one morning. Then there were the days we had a minibus for class trips. "Dr. F-, do you ever get the urge to drive on the other side of the road?" "No, because every time I see cars coming from the opposite direction!"
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