We pull into a Winding Station,
Hand the Attendant our key,
Head into the Station Inn
For a snack and Earl Grey Tea.
In less than an hour,
Our machine being oiled
The tension being adjusted
And our spring tightly coiled,
I slip the motor into gear
And we are off on our way
To the next Winding Station
One hundred miles away.
At Fifty miles an hour,
A once undreamed of rate,
Along the new Travel Road
Such a joy to navigate.
We pass Steam Waggons
Pulling their heavy loads
Along the mostly parallel
Heavy goods roads.
With canals and railways
The country is connected
And once long journeys
Take far less than expected.
The Waggoner with his lad
Pulled by their great Shire
Makes the local deliveries
Always there for hire.
Can this world be bettered
Clockwork coal and steam
Let us travel at speeds that
Were once but a dream.
