A hapless, hilarious, down-at-heel gang
Selling anything door-to-door in Dublin and beyond;
Our yellow Fiat 127, indefatigable Biggsy,
Steam belching from his bonnet.
High-energy wit in the runaway comedy
Of wilfully unrealistic thinkers;
Ecstatic conversation,
The sharing of random rewards.
In a hilly village, Biggsy breaks -
Black smoke from burning oil.
We peer into the mysterious engine -
Soft rain hisses on the engine block.
After the giggling rounds of drinks,
I call my flat from Gogarty's Bar.
Can you come and rescue me?
I'm lost in the heart of Ireland.
