I wrestled with frames, tangled up with each other
And ended up mixing them up with another.
I found myself scratched, bruised and covered in oil,
The price that you pay for such heavy toil.
I got down the road and the handlebar's twisted
I lean and I push until it is shifted.
But now it is facing in the other direction,
It's lived up to my depressing expectation.
I've fixed it, I'm riding, I now have to stop,
But on a chart those breaks would never make top.
I slip and I slide and I nearly scratch paintwork
The driver shouts, laughs and gives me a smirk.
I'm almost to dance class, I've made it so far,
With two narrow escapes involving a car.
My shoe's in the chain and I stop in the road,
I need my own bike, that's what this showed.