Heaven on the A14

a14
and a Big breakfast that goes a long way

Caravan, caravan I hear you calling
Through the hissing of hot tarmac
The sun broke through to enlighten this scene
Of sausage, black pudding, bacon and beans
From a lovely fat lady in greasy jeans
All lipstick, ‘hello love’, and ‘ketchup on that?’
Steamed up windows and a world racing by
Whoosh whoosh, whoosh caravan’s rocking, and so am I

Here comes my tea in a cracked cup
Slopping all over as I slurp it up
Here’s a big trucker bursting a button
All eyes averted from his builder’s bottom
Finds himself a seat, the lady has seen
Asks for his breakfast without any beans
The windows steamed up and the world racing bye
Slow, slow food fit for a king and his queen

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, caravan rocking a rock-a-bye-bye
Sing their little bit of heaven on the A14

Sf copyright

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