It's been said that SAABs are poetry in motion and certainly our beloved autos have prompted much lyric inspiration.
Herewith then, some on-topic verse
I went upon my honeymoon
My husband he went too
Well! A friend of ours once told us
That's what you're meant to do
The car was piled with luggage
Tin cans were strung behind
We chose a seaside hotel
The best that we could find
Upon arrival we were met
By friendly management
The bridal suite was filled with flowers
Champagne on ice was sent
At last the hour of darkness fell
and I prepared for bed,
"I'll go and put the car away"
My brand new husband said
Two hours later all alone
I searched for him in tears
One peep into the garage
Confirmed my deepest fears
He'd met a kindred spirit
The owner of a SAAB
With heads under the bonnet
They discussed his triple carb
I could see that I was beaten
It was written on his face
In a choice between the car and me
I'd already lost the race
But you can learn to love them
Just as you your spouse
As long as you don't mind
The bits of engine in your house
So take heart all you wives
and girlfriends, All is not in vain
If you can share his love of SAABs
Together you'll remain.
Transcribed from the SAAB club newsletter (Compact Front Wheel Drive Club of America), May 6, 1977
Originally published in the British SAAB Owner's Newsletter 4-77
Ode to Sonett
I wonder whose car next you'll f*ck
Though you're driven like a car
Your bumper's simply up too far
S U V, you're like a truck
Underneath your front I'm stuck
Jeff Powell, February 2001
A pushed-in spot where a bumper high,
Did caress my 4-door's tail,
(It had been well and truly nailed.)
My questing eye revealed no note,
The jerkbag simply heaved his boat
To port or starboard, chugged away,
Let damage be as damage may.
A friend of mine was nailed as well;
Her grille was shattered all to hell!
And which of us knows not a one
With Saab unscathed by dent-and-run?
When Ares' bloody hand is shown,
And panic raised and discord sown,
Shall case be made 'tween foe and foe?
'Twas this, not that one, struck the blow?
Nay, once grave Ares' dogs unleashed
Do ravage, Justice shall be not beseeched,
So may all Turboids raise a key,
And gouge the paint of an SUV!
Gavin McNett, February, 2001
(Sung to the tune of "The Tigger Song.")
A wonderful thing is a Viggen,
A Viggen's a wonderful thing,
Its head is a-made of a-lum'num,
Its tail is a-firm'ly springed.
It's bouncy, pouncy, flouncy, trouncy,
Fun fun fun fun fun!
But the terrible thing 'bout a Viggen,
Is that I do not have one.
Gavin McNett, June, 2001
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