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