My Monaro 2016 rewrite

My first car was a Torana a blue and white 68 HB

I paid a thousand dollars then discovered the joy of being free.

My next car was motorbike and it drove my mother mad,

She thought it was too dangerous and the dumbest idea I ever had

I remember getting driven to a party way back in 79,

I saw the greatest car I'd ever seen and I knew one day it would be mine.

It was the first car I'd ever loved and first loves you don't let go,

It was a champagne beige186s 2 door HT GTS Monaro.

I fell in love on that first drive as it made the sweetest sound,

I got to go for many drives as we drove all over our town.

I asked him would he sell it, he said he would but just for cash

So I sold my bike my car and gathered up all my stash.

The first time I got to drive, I drove it all the way to Byron Bay

I filled it up, turned around and drove back the mountain way.

I went surfing outside of Focus, went out there by myself

I had dinner sitting in it enjoying my new found wealth.

I washed it kept it clean and polished all the wheels

I refused to sell it many times and was offered many deals.

I drove it down to Geelong staying in my brother’s spare bed,

His Dad was a panel beater and together we painted it burgundy red.

I put crushed velvet on the headlining, reupholstered every seat.

Added original Bathurst mags making the look complete.

A three thousand dollar stereo that could blow the windows out,

I couldn't hear you from the inside even if you tried to shout.

I drove it back to Queensland and it was my pride and joy,

I very soon got married and as the wedding car it was employed.

Some couples should never be and we didn't get very far,

I kept the motorbike while she reluctantly borrowed my car.

I got the money together to buy her a replacement car to drive

I knew she was evil but I never thought she'd skin me alive.

She faked my signature and sold my car to a so called mate,

I went to the police twice but they wouldn't even investigate.

I lived in another state back then so the police just did not care,

from the records of my reckless past I knew I didn't have a prayer.

There's one law for the rich you know and no justice for the poor

they threatened to arrest me right there if I did not walk out the door.

He hadn’t been seen around by anyone and tried to track him down

I bet the thieving mongrel was smiling at the bargain he had found

I had plans to get my car back and that involved a little private chat

We grew up on the same rough streets so he had probably thought of that

My Monaro is long gone now and written off by that drunken fool,

he never looked after it right and we were such good mates in school.

The object of this poem is an ode to the car I loved as if it were golden

my burgundy red 1970 186s 2 door HT GTS Monaro, a true blue Holden

Jeffrey Goudy