18-11-2019, 05:46 PM
We are the Vintage Brotherhood, our cars are very old,
Each thing sits in its proper place and we sit in the cold,
Conducting our machinery behind an aero screen,
While little boys cry " Racer " and the moderns wax obscene.
Our cars make may noise than theirs, they may not go as fast,
They've no push-button radio, but heavens how they last;
These then our loved and trusted friends, of more than human worth,
For craftsmanship and character, the greatest things on earth.
We are the Vintage Brotherhood, our cars are hell to run,
The moderns get the spares they need, but we get all the fun,
No hydromatic nonsense, no bulbous tin for us...
...And if you break your crankshaft, you can always take a bus.
W.H.Charnock. 1951.
Each thing sits in its proper place and we sit in the cold,
Conducting our machinery behind an aero screen,
While little boys cry " Racer " and the moderns wax obscene.
Our cars make may noise than theirs, they may not go as fast,
They've no push-button radio, but heavens how they last;
These then our loved and trusted friends, of more than human worth,
For craftsmanship and character, the greatest things on earth.
We are the Vintage Brotherhood, our cars are hell to run,
The moderns get the spares they need, but we get all the fun,
No hydromatic nonsense, no bulbous tin for us...
...And if you break your crankshaft, you can always take a bus.
W.H.Charnock. 1951.