Cycling Song

Some get their kicks from bob sledding
While others like to ski.
Some parachute, or hang and glide,
But cycling is for me.

A small hard seat between my legs,
Some slick shorts, black and tight
Two narrow tires pumped nice and firm
To grip the road just right.

Then all I need's a place to go
A wander weg to ride
And I will pedal here and there
And I'll be satisfied.

Some hills will get me all pumped up
And cause my face to drip
The downhill stretch will cool me off
And make me change my grip.

Any change of inclination
And I will change my gear
To keep a uniform rotation
No matter where I steer.

The road's vibration goads me on
It tells me when I slow
And need to push a higher gear
And faster, faster go.

But best of all are winding turns
The wind, the lean, the fun
The sprinting down the homeward stretch
To rest my weary buns.