White Van Man has a very white van
   And a very white van has he,
Except for the dents and the rust by the vents
   And some very rude Graf-ee-tee.

He drives in his van as fast as he can
   And he neither hears nor sees,
He clings to his phone like a dog with a bone
   While he steers with one of his kneeeees.

He picks his nose while the tailback grows
   And yacks to his front-seat crew,
But a fool so rash as to honk or flash
   Will receive the fingers twooooo.

Oh, White Van man has a very wide clan
   Who profess no Highway Code,
They’ll shunt your rear and yell in your ear
   As they U-turn in the roooooad.

He stamps on his brakes when he overtakes
   As he cuts up you and me,
For White Van Man has a very white van...
   And a very white van has heeeee!