A Kombi The best sort of car, Is a Kombi by far. They are not very light, But make quite a site. When driving in the city, In a Bay or a Splity. Us owners don’t mind, If it trails fumes behind. On uneven ground, They make quite a sound. With a shake and a rattle, Like a tank into battle. The Kombi is king still, But not when chugging up a hill. Lots of petrol its using, Whilst exquisitely cruising. We love them to bits, At times it’s the pits. We keep them going, They keep us owing. The people unaware, At a convoy stop and stare. The drivers chests do swell, For their little boxes of hell. A Kombi, who could ask for more? A Kombi, the one we adore! We call them a stinker, When we start to tinker. Finding uninsulated wires, That could have started fires. Finding bog by the tonne, Fixing that will be fun. Grinding is a must, The gaping holes of rust. At times it makes you wonder, How the project didn’t go under. But the Kombi and you, Worked it out and made do. Now how proud you feel, As you sit behind the wheel. The problems are all done, You and your Kombi are as one. The feeling of being alive, As on the open road you drive. Yes the best sort of car, Is a Kombi by far! Now that its sold, I'm feeling rather old. We will just have to see, What the next Kombi will be. A project of fame, I'll have to change my name. While I wait I'll be, Playing with my toy Kombi. Regards, Cammokombi.