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The cycling gods are angry, maybe I've ignored One too many red lights, or maybe they're just bored They're throwing it all at me, their wind and rain and hail But if they think they’re going to stop me, I know they're going to fail So, bring it on, ya bastards, bring it on So, bring it on, ya bastards, bring it on
I'm going to ride on through your storm I'm going to ride on through your storm
Well my psychedelic jacket keeps me warm And my nuclear powered headlights will keep me free from harm I've suffered worse things in my life Than wind that cuts you like a knife Yeah, bring it on, ya bastards, bring it on bring it on, ya bastards, bring it on
So, all you cycling Deities who seem to have it in for me Man, you’re gumming up my chain fillin’ pot holes up with rain When your lorry drivers pass within inches of my ass And your car kicks up the spray so I can’t see what’s in my way
I’m gonna keep on riding through your storm Bring it on, ya bastards, bring it on