Driving Instructor's Lament
by Bryan Roskams
We all have to work to earn the dough
To allow us to survive,
But the people that deserve a medal
Are the ones that teach us to drive.
I was a driving instructor and
Was told I was one of the best,
And this is one of the stories
That happened leading up to the test.
I got a phone call one day
From a man that wanted to learn,
He said he wanted six lessons
To pass his test was his concern.
I picked him up for his hourly stint
He grinned at me ear to ear,
He spoke in broken English
And said “I hafe no fear!”
He got in the car without warning
And laid his hands on the key,
I told him to sit back and relax
And take his in instructions from me.
He was wearing big hobnail boots
His name should have been Jake,
Every time he touched the gas
His foot also hit the brake.
I told him to start in first gear
But please push the clutch down first,
He said,” I know” and forgot the clutch
And the gearbox promptly burst.
We were out on his tenth lesson,
I was taking pills by the score,
I’d used up eight of my lives
And felt I couldn’t take much more.
We were going down a hill at speed
About forty miles an hour,
I told him to slow down with the brake
And instead he hit the power.
We were now doing more than fifty
And I wished I was home in bed,
We were approaching traffic lights
And whats more they were red.
I closed my lids and saw my life
Pass before my eyes,
I thought I’d soon be teaching
Far up in the skies.
There was a honking of horns
a screech of brakes,
And we’d passed right through the lights,
I’m not easily scared but that
Certainly gave me the frights.
Needless to say he failed his test
So he’s not allowed on the road,
But if he had passed and let loose
They'd have changed the high way code.
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