With awful rush and roaring sound
It thunders merrily over the ground.
It smashes the cabs, it crushes the flies,
Before it in ruin the tax-cart lies.
I’m on the Van, I’m on the Van!
Let people get out of the way who can.
Jolly the day when the Van was born,
In the noddle of Pickford, or Chaplin and Horne;
Says they, “The people denounce as slow
The waggons so huge from our yards that go.