Faster than faeries
Faster than rockets
So fast that my eyeballs
Hit the backs of their sockets
Flying down York Road
On my new Raleigh Chopper
Stability went AWOL
And I came a cropper
Two knees and two elbows
And most of my chin
Almost entirely
Denuded of skin
Looking back at that day
I was only fourteen
With a hole full of mad dreams
Where my brain should have been
I was rubbish at football
Couldn’t sing, act or dance
So my big hope of stardom
Lay in the Tour de France
I would buy a real bike
With the winning proceeds
But to be King of the Mountains
I had to practise in Leeds
As for flying down hills
On that lethal blue Chopper
I’d have done just as well
With my sister’s Space Hopper
So if you have a great plan
Think it through in your head
Don’t end up like me
Feeling partially dead
