Friday 7 February 2014

February 7: The sweaty crack brigade ...


In my lycra I ride, one leg either side, of a frame made from kevlar and plastic
I can ride very fast but my strength does not last, although in my view I’m fantastic
My bright yellow vest should put you at rest; and I obey all the road rules you know
Except if at speed, or when there is a need, to see green when it’s red, through I go

And it is not just with jest that we ride two abreast; I don’t see you there queuing behind
Not that I care if you’re all stuck back there, you’re the furthest thing from my mind
But don’t be rude, your opinion is skewed, I am not here to be heckled by you
On this road I can ride, and I do so with pride, from my helmet down to my brake shoe

On the train with my bike, take three seats if I like, I don’t want to get in your way
Give me plenty of space, I’ll stay out of your face, I don’t care if you’ve something to say
I purchased a fare, and I’ve paid for a chair, if I need two or three so be it
You don’t want to stand? That’s tough my good man; really I don’t give a shit

I’ve had all the abuse that could be of use; it won’t make me go any faster
If you don’t want to take care, then get out of my air, your neglect could end in disaster
I do have a right, to ride here at night, and your view that I don’t is just wrong
I am licensed to drive, and I pay rego on five, other motors and it costs me a bomb

As I alight, I look to my right, for drivers whose eyes do not work
If you cannot see, a man dressed like me, you must be some kind of a jerk
As I ride in my lane, I remember the pain, from the grazes inflicted last week
More bike lanes we need, to ride home at speed, but till then up the inside we sneak

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