Lethal is what I am
Behind the shopping trolley
I cannot steer the bloody thing
I feel a proper wally
Push it to the left I do
And it rolls towards the right
Catching people’s ankles
Hitting everything in sight
Once I stopped to price the bread
And left it standing there
Next there came a mighty crash
Twas’ canned peas everywhere
Usually it takes the lead
And just goes on without me
Refusing to cooperate
So what is it about me?
Looking round, I always find
That others have no trouble
They whistle for their trolleys
and they ‘pull up’ at the double
Maybe they have passed their test
To shop with such great ease
But I am just not qualified
So give me L plates please!
