The Ballad of the Errol Barrow Highway
Oh the Errol Barrow Highway
Is the highway we all know
It promises a speedy trip
But it is often slow
With high anticipation
You head off full of hope
Then at the second roundabout
You start to feel a dope
The trucks, the cars the buses
Are queued a mile long
You think there’s been an accident
But I’m afraid you’re wrong
They’re waiting for a man to cross
The dual carriageway
On a zebra crossing
Installed ten feet away
From the junction where the cars
Are trying to proceed
Why so close? Oh why so close?
There isn’t any need.
He has a rather crooked gait
He limps and hobbles on
And several minutes later
At last the poor chap’s gone
Two cars escape the mayhem
And go swiftly on their way
Then another starts to cross the road
It’s just like ‘Groundhog Day’
He ambles, strolls, he saunters
He meanders ‘cross the road
The traffic now is building
How they curse the Highway Code
Eventually he makes it
And two more cars escape
One car clips another
Oh it’s just a little scrape
They both get out and argue
Insurance details swapped
They both hold up the traffic
Then decide all could be dropped
The queue is fifteen minutes long
Well there or thereabouts
We’ll soon arrive with fingers crossed
Just twelve more roundabouts
That we must negotiate
To reach our destination
Why can’t they build some bridges
To avoid the aggravation?
​
​
​
​
​
