Does anyone have the words to Brian Cant's poem Pimpernel Petroleum?

(All of the above an then:)

Soon another driver came to give advice.

He called her "Ancient Rattletrap" which wasn't very nice.

He used her starting handle & he wound & wound & wound,

Then he and Percy Poddle pushed and pulled her round.

For Pimpernel was turning a corner when she stuck,

Perhaps it was on purpose, perhaps bad luck

Right across the roadway,

Wheels upon the grass,

Lots of cars were coming but not a thing could pass.

Pimpernel's conductress, Miss Fanny Freda Frisk

Was exceedingly indignant though very bright and brisk.

Said she: "We've had enough

Of this sentimental stuff,

What Pimpernel is needing is a driver who is rough."

But driver Percy Poddle is a kind wee man

Who speaks to her politely as often as he can.

He's gentle with her steering wheel

And careful with her brake,

And whispers to her: "Pimpernel

Be good for any sake!"

But Pimpernel Petroleum is a bold, bad bus

Who doesn't care for driving from Glasgow to Luss.

"Pop!" goes her engine,

"Crunch!" goes her gears

Her passengers are sitting with their fingers in their ears

Pimpernel Petroleum loves to make a fuss

For Pimpernel Petroleum is a bold, bad bus

Pimpernel's Passengers were carried onto Luss

In a very new and shiny yellow bus.

But Pimpernel stayed by the side of the road.

Her driver called her "Dearie"

Her conductress called her "Toad!"

Her driver wound the handle,

Her conductress gave advice

And the names she gave poor Pimpernel were not at all nice.

But Pimpernel stayed

As if stuck to the ground

Where the two of them had left her

When they pushed and pulled her round

Pimpernel's conductress, Miss Fanny Freda Frisk,

Was exceedingly indignant though very bright & brisk.

Said she: "We've had enough

Of this sentimental stuff."

And she turned her back on Pimpernel.

Miss Frisk was in a huff.

But driver Percy Poddle is a kind wee man

He filled her up with petrol from a nice clean can.

He patted her, he patted her,

He gently eased her brake,

And whispered to her: "Pimpernel,

Be good for any sake!"

Then Pimpernel started without the slightest fuss

And left her poor conductress eleven miles from Luss!

"Pop!" went her engine,

"Crunch!" went her gears

But Pimpernel went faster than she had for years and years.

And Pimpernel Petroleum went whizzing into Luss

And far behind her followed the yellow bus.