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When They Began The Megane

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‘Twas on a sunny Grecian isle

That lo, it came to pass

That someone said to Kenneth

Come on and shake that arse.

 

He thought he’d hired a motor

At least that was the plan

But in the airport car park

There lurked a squat Megane.

 

Its bulbous sides a symbol

Of some Frenchman’s twisted joke

Not made to suit the driving

Of your average English bloke.

 

They set off for their villa

Ken said: “This car is crap!”

And bang, they hit a kerbstone

And off rolled their hub cap.

 

It didn’t go much better

With the soft drink known as Coke

They’re hard delivery lorries

So off their mirror broke.

 

Each road they took was narrow

That Corfu’s hardly flat

And no one’d choose to tour it

In a car so goddamn fat.

 

And then at last there came the day

“We’ll dump it” they all thought

Just take it back to Corfu Town

And leave it at the port.

 

Yet fate is sometimes cruel

‘Gainst Man can oft conspire

As down the mountain road they came

A step took out their tyre.

 

They changed wheels on the roadside

With luggage piled up high

Then took the bastard back to base

And bid a fond goodbye.

 

The moral’s very simple

French cars aren’t like their wine

Just stick them, Monsieur Renault,

Right where the sun don’t shine.

 

 

 

 

 

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