That muffled throbbing tone

Of all the times I dearly love,
There’s one I love the best;
It’s not a song of  turtledove,
Nor of a feathered nest;
It has a hum that’s all its own,
Without a skip or jar,
It is that muffled throbbing tone
of my big Staver car.

The world is striving all the time,
To master speed and pow’r,
And wise brains full of cog-wheels claim
two hundred miles an hour;
But what’s the use of  flying when
You can’t go half so far?
Just take a tip from me, my friend,
Go buy a Staver car.

Chorus:
Staver, Staver, never yield,
A wounded stag upon your shield,
Swift and pow’rful on your way,
Vic-to-ry will crown your day;
First upon the road and track,
Foemen always see your back;
Your speed and strength are on a par,
Staver, Staver, you’re a grand old car!