Always wanted an S type Jaguar
It’s wasn’t the old man’s favourite car
That was a Cortina 1600E to tell the truth
Olympic Gold, with Rostyle wheels and a black vinyl roof
But we travelled in old VX490s, Vivas
Drove to the Gospel Hall, we true believers
Where the preachers said the devil was a trickster
Who seduced us with Vauxhalls, with Crestas and Victors
A classic car
memory and pride
More than just a ride
A classic car
It’s the life you never had
Better than your dad’s
A classic car
I bought a Wolseley, expecting it to smell
Like I was 10, in a taxi to a Largs hotel
But it reeked of damp and mildew, of fibreglass and rust
On the A80 in Moodiesburn, it finally bit the dust
You can’t go back, you can’t return
To when it didn’t matter how much fuel you burned
When smoking was good for your health
And you could let the babies sleep upon the parcel shelf
You can’t go back, maybe remembering is sweet
But history is what we learn so we don’t have to repeat
Build a useless border, sing some songs and raise a flag
Then from some wide-boy dealer, you buy a bodged-up deathtrap Jag
It looked great in the showroom, it filled your heart with pride
All your limousine ambitions that could not be denied
The deal is done, the trouble start, you’re in a world of pain
And you realise that you can’t go back, you can’t go back home again
Copyright 2014 Scar Quilse. All rights reserved.
Copyright 2014 Scar Quilse. All rights reserved.
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