Go Dancer, Go Prancer, Go Donder, Hey, wait a minute, Jack! Its Go Doc, Go Sneezy, Go Mater, Go Mac! Get down on the floor Gramps So I can ride on your back.
The Race Car Game Is what we like to play. Well play it tomorrow But letss start today!
Lightning McQueen is The Piston Cup Champ. But Chick Hicks thinks hes better, What a very mean Scamp!
Baby Bears the announcer He calls lap by lap, I hope hes not tired, He takes sudden quick naps.
There are fifty laps scheduled And they are on forty nine. When this race is over Who will have the best time?
In Radiator Springs Its the most fun weve seen. In a month now of Sundays Reigns Lightning McQueen!
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all
places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url).
Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of
what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its
owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site. Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact
Webmaster