Okay, so my rig ain’t cute,

She gets me from point a to b,

Through the floor, the road I can see,

We call her the big old flea…

Drivin’ cross-country we get stares,

But we ain’t got no cares,

We be drivin’ a big hairy flea,

From the rest of the world we do flee…

So the rain comes in every now & then,

To others as well we may offend,

They are just jealous; we got class,

As it takes to drive this thing crass,

It’s held together with bailing wire & brass…

© ed ~ 7/21/11