Even a motor car we cannot make

Create what glittering structure they may,

Tell us its all the best for you and me,

Once the great Austin day,

Will now seem just a cemetery,

Years ago though times were hard,

Look forward to a bright future,

The wheels of fortune in those cars,

In those machines a strange beauty,

We thought it all dirt,

We thought it all grime,

Now in the depth of our hurt,

See it as something sublime,

Those men of genius,

Austin is Issigonis and the rest,

Though the end be henious,

We know they all did their best,

In Birmingham played our part,

The industrial revolution create,

Now even a motor car,

We simply cannot make.

Mr WH Stevens

Whetty Lane

Rubery