Well it starts as a joke
Like a stick in your spokes
Or removing the bolt of the brakes

Then the bicycle flips [bad word] 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