Vista previa
Well it starts as a joke
Like a stick in your spokes
Or removing the bolt of the brakes
Then the bicycle flips
Crushing ribs smashing hips
And he broke every bone in his face
Now you´re out of control
And you can´t fill the hole
That was left by the thrill of the chase
You´re a right piece of work
All the flakes go berserk
Have you forgotten how good they taste
You´re my kind of guy
Cos I like your style
And you sound as horrible as me
And I don´t mind if you´re unkind
Cos you´re reminding me of me
As the bicycle race
Gathers speed, gathers pace
And you feel that you´re going too fast
Theres a word to the wise
You should take some advice
As the nice guys always finish last
You´re my kind of guy
Cos I like your style
And you sound as horrible as me
And I don´t mind if you´re unkind
Cos you´re reminding me of me
You´re my kind of guy
Cos I like your style
You sound as horrible as me
And heads will roll
As it takes its toll
On you and me