There was a young cyclist called Helen Whose maternal bosom was swellin' She'd break all your ribs
If she caught you in bibs, So there is just no point in rebellin'
There was a young cyclist called Guy Whose recumbent was not very high He was tearing around With
both feet off the ground But honking he dared not try
There was a young [insert noun here] called Smith Who tried to perpetuate myth That GATSOs are bad
We all think he's mad So we flamed him and just took the pith.
There was a young cyclist called Myra Who bog snorkled pools of dry cider She wouldn't go near Big
pools of beer 'Cos she hated the taste inside her
One more...
There was a young cyclist call Rich Who had a terrible itch He adjusted his bars To poke up his [censored]
But he farted and went in a ditch.
Your turn ...
Love and hugs from Rich x
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Sig got lost during a reinstall