On Me Exercise Bike

I do it in the spare bedroom
When no one is around,
But if you crept up quietly
You might hear a grunting sound.

All day long I pound away,
With all me might and main,
Determined look upon my face,
The pleasure and the pain

All manner of strange sounds I make,
“Oh My God”, you’ll hear me shriek
As I finally reach a climax,
Then collapse into a heap.

I’ll keep puffing and keep panting,
Morning, noon or night,
But I’m busy going nowhere
On me exercise bike.

My doctor told me that I must,
Shed more than a few pounds,
And lower my cholesterol,
Or I’ll be underground

When I was young and in my prime,
I leaner was and fitter,
But now I am the Michelin man,
Through drinking pints of bitter.

I feel just like that Greek bloke
With his bloody rock,
But however fast I pedal,
I’m still rooted to the spot.

I’ll keep puffing and keep panting,

I’ll shut me eyes and make believe,
On the open road I speed
With the wind blowing through my hair
That once was on my swede,

The women watch as I sail past,
In my tight lycra shorts,
Admiring of my shapely rear
And having wicked thoughts.

Let’s give it total welly,
Let’s make that arsehole pout,
I’ll blow out all those cobwebs
Till I’ve worn myself right out

I’ll keep puffing and keep panting,

Then I open up my eyes and see
Those four magnolia walls,
Just like a hamster in a wheel
A martyr to the cause

I’ll keep puffing and keep panting,