I’d rather be a cyclist
Than any other beast,
For thou he slays but never stays
Upon the slain to feast.

It’s pleasant to remember
While lying on the stones,
And though you’re dead, you needn’t dread
That he will pick your bones.

He comes! You fall!! He’s gone! That’s all!
He doesn’t mind the least,
Oh I’d rather be a cyclist,
Than any other beast.