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Brier
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The Oul Morris Van
In the neat little town they call Belfast, apprentice to trade I was bound.
Many's an hour sweet happiness I spent in that neat little town.
To serve my time as a mechanic, to York Street I did Land.
The first thing I did when I got there was to purchase an oul Morris Van.
And her headlights they shone like the diamonds.
In the back was an old bag of straw.
It wasn't the tax that held me back.
Each night I ran up the M1.
One night while going down North Street
She stoped and she stalled in the street.
And when I got out to murder her
This young blond I happened to meet.
She said your down from the country
I know by the size of your hands
But before she knew what happened her.
I had her stretched out in my van.
And her headlights they shone like the diamonds.
In the back was an old bag of straw.
It wasn't the tax that held me back.
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Each night I ran up the M1.
A policeman was standing at the corner, who had a big gun in his hand.
The way that he walked around us, you'd swear that he owned the old van.
He then peeked into the windscreen, and you're sure that he made his high stand.
For nature was taking first place, right here in the back of me van.
And her headlights they shone like the diamonds.
In the back was an old bag of straw.
It wasn't the tax that held me back.
Each night I ran up the M1.
Before the judge and the jury, next morning I had to appear.
The judge he looked flabbergasted when he saw my nice bit of gear.
'I'll give you 6 months down in Kremlin, you can do it the best way you can.
You can do many's a thing down in Belfast but not in the back of your van.'
And her headlights they shone like the diamonds.
In the back was an old bag of straw.
It wasn't the tax that held me back each night I ran up the M1...
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