On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me a Mini for grandma, she'll be all the envy of her church group, but better not take the pastor along, he may risk losing his "toop" in her ragtop!
A grown up version of a radio controlled car, fast and quick as if on rails, Grandma better turn down that rap music or she'll start getting hate mail, Grandma will wring this exquisite convertible out for all it's worth,
Grandpa better take his nitroglycerin before riding along with Grandma as she burns up the turf. Grandma will enjoy her little bee yellow ride,
although it stings the road more like a hornet. quite the bees knees inside, part Rolls Royce without the affectation,
with way more flirtation, a motoring version of a smiley face, like a giant taste of a youth potion guzzled down, just the pill to take care of life's certain bumps a lifetime friend to fly you along!
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me a Mini for grandma, she'll be all the envy of her church group, but better not take the pastor along, he may risk losing his "toop" in her ragtop!
