Two little lights in the dead of night,
One man's stars, his only satellite,
Four bottles deep, no license, half sight,
Borrowed the Meriva — said it felt right.
Sailing the M6 on somebody's brake lights.
Two red dots doing all the work, no stress!
Recalculating never was his problem, I guess!
Pulled in for fuel, filled the tank,
Station crew helped, no one read the signs,
Then he's swerving lanes, the hard-shoulder dance,
Carlisle patrol saw the Meriva sway,
Story hit the courtroom, jaws hit the tray.
Suspended sentence, ninety days dry,
Lawyer said desperation — okay, but why
The motorway, man, at night, half-blind?
Somewhere a trucker crossed the border line,
Never knowing he was guiding a wine-soaked sign —
Sorry truck, you were the plan,
Sorry truck, you were the plan!
