The car's on the street,
The shoppers' compete,
To get a warm seat.
The warm seat they share,
Upon the frost driven chair,
Feeling the cold winter's' air.
The kettle's on the hob,
The shopper would stop,
To hitch the ride.
Come back and pay,
Again and again,
With a nice brew,
To ease the strain,
Of the cold shopper's pain.
Sit down dear,
Lets' get you a brew,
Only one will do.
I'll have to stop here,
The next time I shop.
What a nice lot,
Of drivers', in stock.
The brew and the air are not bad too,
So when I am out,
I'll stop by the shop,
Get some rich tea biscuit's,
For the good lad's,
Who struggle and strive,
To get us home, from our beautiful buy's.
