Dangerous Van McGrew
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A bunch of the buses were boozing it up,
In the Rancho del Red Rock canteen,
All shitfaced from swilling straight thirty-weight oil,
They were starting to get rather mean.The temperatures rose, with the shouts and the swears,
And the burnt smell of oil made you choke,
When the doors flung wide open, and a breath of fresh air
Made them all forget what they spoke.For there in the door, in lilly white lace,
Was a Eurovan, twitching her hips,
And enjoying the sight of the buses' bright lights
Which got brighter as she licked her lips.She was young, and demur, but no stranger to vice,
For her fenders had scratches and dings.
And some Microbus said, as he cradled his head,
He had heard she did unspeakable things.She was different, he said, with her engine up front,
Where her power went to her front wheels,
Her pistons were five, water-cooled, and inline ...
And THAT made the Vanagons squeal!As the stares and the gossip encircled the room,
Like the blue smoke of oil in the air,
She straightened her fenders, rolled up to the bar,
Said, "Barkeep! Some oil for this mare!""Don't give me that cheap stuff, that no-name lube oil,
"And I don't want that recycled stuff!"
"I want quality hootch, that Mobil, that One,"
She said in a voice, low and gruff.She was half through a liter, her fifth of the night,
When a big Syncro Camper came in,
He focused his headlights and gave her both brights,
As his grillwork turned into a grin.So he four-wheeled beside her, and popped up his top,
Saying, "Howdy, kin I buy you a can?"
"Or maybe you'd rather come sit over there,
"Where I'll show you a Real Vee-Dub Van!"At first, she ignored him, or so it appeared,
But the oil, it was taking its toll,
And there in the corner, by the end of the bar,
Her Eurovan virtue was sold.When the sun rose next morning, her headliner ached,
And her radiator needed a washing,
Her headlights were cloudy, all covered with grime,
And her fuel tank, near empty, was sloshing.Nine months from that day, in a family way,
She found herself circled by babies,
Reminders for life, of that one fateful night,
With none of those But's, If's, or Maybe's.A Golf that was blue, of a beautiful hue,
Like his father, a color that glowed;
A Jetta of red, at least so they said;
And a Beetle as white as the snow.
