Best Volkswagen Poems

Crack open an eye on Saturday morn,
and reach out to give him a cuddle.
To find he's been up since break of dawn,
and crouched in a black oily puddle.
Began with the Polo, a fast one I guess,
On day three the engine goes BOOM!
Self serviced the car...

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Pulled on the parka, and turned my face to the cold street.
Half running, half slipping, piece of toast hangin' from my mouth..
man oh man am I late...

Two and half blocks south down Jerome to the station..
gotta make the Kingsbridge nine o five. 
Thank the lord...

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It was just a 1964 Beetle
dressed in its finest
VW red;
the best car
on the road,
spin on a dime,
driv’in  half a mile on fumes
with three spark plugs;
yes I said three spark plugs,
don’t you know the forth
wouldn’t stay plugged in,
it popped out every time and 
rattled around...

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