Affectionate parody of a heroic tragic ballad. In this case, the man's lost love is a rival lorry driver. 'Annie Laurie was her name, and a lorry was her fame...and she came from old Kilorglin in a lorry.'
Brand new old songs of the '30s, '40s, '50s and '60s.
Lyrics
Annie Lorry
I am a lorry driver, Land’s End to John o’ Groats
I’ve motored miles of motorway, I’ve sown my mortal oats
You can keep your bloody busses and your bloody motor boats—
Give me the M1 flowing fleet beneath my lorry.
When I was but a young man, I chanced to meet a girl
Her eyes as green as emerald, her teeth as white as pearl
I saw her in the cafe, thought I’d give this girl a whirl—
And I drove her off that evening in a lorry.
She’d come of late from Ireland, my lovely motor maid
Come to seek her fortune, all in the motor trade
But the rocky Ring of Kerry is where she should have stayed—
For she went to meet her maker in a lorry.
It was in a transport cafe on the road to Withernsea
We shared some eggs and rashers and a lovely cup o’ tea
She swore she was the driver that could get the best of me—
And she sought to prove my better in a lorry.
Midnight in the car park, I bade her sweet farewell
I lost my Annie Laurie in a swoop that was so fell
Her diesel engine screaming like a banshee out of hell—
And she raced off to perdition in a lorry.
My Annie Laurie’s gone now, I’ll ne’er see her again
She skidded out and jackknifed in this dam-ned English rain
If I ever woo another, I shall woo her on the train—
I’ll have no more Annie Laurie in a lorry.
Annie Laurie was her name…And a lorry was her fame—
And she came from old Kilorglin, And she came from old Kilorglin
And she came from old Kilorglin in a lorry.
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