The bike must go - a song
Got to keep the engine running - My soul's on fire
Like to see my baby - my one desire
Can't help this feeling it's hard to explain
It hurts my heart it gives me pain
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go
Riding through the city streets, with my leathers on
Looking cool in black as the day is long
I can't quite understand it but my baby's wrong
Plugged into her Ipod and listening to her song
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go.
She's driving me crazy with her stance
And I'm sure she's taking me for a dance
When she says I hate it - it's like doing time
Then she looks at me and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
There's no way around it, can't persuade her n-o more,
it'll be a pity but what can I do?
Sooner or later she's got to see
The bike's for cruising with her and me
And she says:
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
How can she be so cruel when I love her so
I tried ever thing to please her that I know
Got to keep my baby on the wild side
And she looks into my eyes and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
I love my baby like a dog chewing a bone
I called her this morning on the telephone,
There's no way around it
I tried my best
There's nothing more to say except
The bike must go
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
*I turned this poem into a song which you can listen to on Youtube or google. Just type 'the bike must go' Enjoy.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon

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Related quotes
A Bike Is Just A Bike
A bike is just a bike
It can take you for a riding hike
A bike is just a bike
With a motorcycle it is a look alike
A bike is just a bike
When you ride it you feel childlike
But there is something I dislike
It is hard to impress and make a good strike
Two wheels and one seat available for hitchhike
Your charming words will have a declined spike
Therefore it is best to leave the bike for the dikes
poem by Sylvia Chidi

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Dirt Bike
Here comes the dirt bike
Beware of the dirt bike
Because I hear theyre coming to our town
Theyve got plans for everyone
And now I hear theyre over their sophomore jinx, so you had better check it out
All hail the dirt bike
Philosopher dirt bike
Silence as we gathered round
We saw the word and were on our way
Now its
Brain washing dirt bike
Ground shaking dirt bike
Mind bending dirt bike
In control
Soul crushing dirt bike
Self propelled dirt bike
You see I never thought Id understand
til that bike took me by the hand
Now I ride
Ride
Ride
song performed by by They Might Be Giants

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bike Ride
Like a vine him entwined,
While the bike rushed.
More speed; tighter hugged:
A ride ecstatic.
The bike roared and jolted
With the thrill never experienced.
Small pits on the road did
Jerk them with the bike.
Rain water in pits the bike
Beautifully splashed.
Very risky drive,
But speed reduce both dislike.
The greatest pleasures hid
In the pits of risks.
poem by Fabiyas M V

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Learning
a little brown boy
perhaps aged three
is learning
how to ride his
bike
the father bought
a bike
taller than the boy
but the boy
has passion
breaks his bones
suffers the bruises
just to learn
this new skill
he rides on top of the
bike unable to reach
the brake
and he laughs at all this
not seeking
any help.
there he falls again
on the ground.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Bike Ride To The Moon
Push me off to start the fun
On a bike ride to the moon
Lots of room for everyone
On a bike ride to the moon
And well bring back cheese for my auntie jane
And some magic moon dust thatll stop the rain
On my poor uncle alfreds head, even though he stays in bed (silly alfred)
Why not bring a pot of tea
On a bike ride to the moon
Angel cake for you and me
On a bike ride to the moon
And well pack a tent case its cold at night
And Ill share your sleeping bag if I might
And might be a positive boon
To protect you from the man in the moon (who happens to be me, look out!)
Racing forward cant look back
On a bike ride to the moon
What did I omit to pack
On a bike ride to the moon?
With the stars all glinting in the shiny chrome
Then I suddenly remembered what I left at home
Now I shant be peddling any higher
cos a sharp sputnik has given me a cosmic flat tyre
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bike Ride To The Moon
Push me off to start the fun
On a bike ride to the moon
Lots of room for everyone
On a bike ride to the moon
And well bring back cheese for my auntie jane
And some magic moon dust thatll stop the rain
On my poor uncle alfreds head, even though he stays in bed (silly alfred)
Why not bring a pot of tea
On a bike ride to the moon
Angel cake for you and me
On a bike ride to the moon
And well pack a tent case its cold at night
And Ill share your sleeping bag if I might
And might be a positive boon
To protect you from the man in the moon (who happens to be me, look out!)
Racing forward cant look back
On a bike ride to the moon
What did I omit to pack
On a bike ride to the moon?
With the stars all glinting in the shiny chrome
Then I suddenly remembered what I left at home
Now I shant be peddling any higher
cos a sharp sputnik has given me a cosmic flat tyre
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Bike Ride
Jim's younger sister
Followed you everywhere
and stood watching
as you rode the old car
around the field
or whizzed around
on their motorbike
to the cheers and shouts
from the fence
Monica why don't you
go off and play
Jim said
yes
said Pete
her other brother
go play with your dolls
go take a run and jump
she said
and still stood watching you
her eyes fixed on you
like wasps on a jam jar
I want to watch him ride
she said
and stood with her hands
on her hips
waiting until you stopped
the bike and got off
and wandered over to you
and said
I like the way you ride
like how you sway
and swerve on the bike
and you smiled at her
and took in
her short stature
her dark eyes
her determined expression
and as Pete rode off
on the bike
and Jim stood
on the fence
calling to him
Monica put her hand in yours
and said
wish you were my brother
I know you'd let me ride
the bike or car
and not tease me
or bawl me out
I guess I would
let you ride the bike or car
you said
and sensed
her small hand in yours
her thumb rubbing
against your skin
but seeing
as you're not my brother
she whispered
maybe you could
marry me one day
and we could ride off
into the sunset
like they do in the movies
in Jim's old car
yes sure maybe
you said
knowing inside
that'd be a bridge too far.
poem by Terry Collett

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Woman On Bike
Woman on bike,
Sew, sew, few, mew, blew, grew, slew;
And like the bitterness and the woes of life! !
But to sit alone down in the darkness is like,
Those long dead and gone.
Woman on bike,
Hew, crew, Jew, threw, pew, view, yew;
And like an age old flesh of the skin,
But this must show you the truth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Tour de France
On my training bike, in the back yard, I won Tour de France,
it only took half an hour. In Paris they gave me red wine,
a medal and my picture in Le Monde. Then I lost it a blood
test showed I was taking Lasix 40. Again my face appeared
in the papers, with the caption: “A cheat.” Me who had to go
off my bike twice for a pee. I can live with public disgrace for
I know in my heart I won the race; and as the song says:
“no, no they can’t take that away from me.”
poem by Oskar Hansen

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My blue bike thunders below me
My blue bike thunders
below me
and cars and trucks
flashes by.
It’s a hot day with an open blue sky
and nowhere there’s a cloud
to be seen
and the warm wind brushes my hair.
The smell of the grass, petrol,
exhaust fumes and tar
rises around me,
but I am free
and the bike catches some speed
and the road stretches out
in front of me.
poem by Gert Strydom

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While Waiting for the Boys
You lay your bike
against the fence
and headed towards
the farmhouse
but Monica came out
of the house
and stood in front
of the door
where you going
with the boys?
she asked
the cinema
you replied
what are you going to see?
Kissing Cousins
going to see what?
it's a new film
by Elvis in it
you said
looking beyond her
towards the house
I'd like to come too
she said
will they let you?
they might
if you say I can
that's up to your mother
you said
but if you said
you'd like me
to come along
I'm sure she'd let me
she stood gazing at you
her arms folded waiting
another time maybe
you said
why another time
why not now?
I'm 17 you're just 14
don't think your parents'd
be keen on me
taking you out just yet
what do they know
she muttered
the door of the house
opened and her mother
came out of the door
hope you're not
bothering Benedict
she said
the boys will be out
in a moment
she said
turning to you
and giving Monica
a stern stare
ok
you said
I'll wait
by my bike
Monica pouted her lips
and followed you
as you walked
to your bike
in you come
young lady
don't want you pestering
the boys' friend when
they come calling
and so Monica turned away
following her mother
another daydream falling.
poem by Terry Collett

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The Flea Market (Fun Poem 68)
When I was just a little nipper,
I cycled along to see
a flea market on the green.
I parked my bike,
and then sat down in the tall grass.
No one had to me
that they gave away fleas there too.
Therefore, while I was sitting there
one jumped on my ass,
and when I got back to school
and went to park my bike.
The little beggar bit
and I went dancing around
doing the flea-a-me-jig.
I must have looked a sight for sure,
a sight for sore eyes
as I racked my rear end to bits,
jumping around like a bouncing ball.
I either got him,
or he fell of dizzy as hell,
but he never bit me again.
29 February 2008
poem by David Harris

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He Took a Header
They met in a field, 'mid th» blooming heather; A punster, a ram and an old bell-wether.
No cry of alarm did the young man utter,
He simply murmured : "I'll pass the butter."
"And I'll butt the passer, observed the ram, "I ain't any Mary's little lamb."
" 'That tired feeling' I'll o'er him bring, So often caused by 'a forward spring.'
"I'll give him 'a header' he will not like." And he "cast sheep's eyes" at the youth and bike.
(W-h-i-s-h-! r-r-r-!-!-!)
Sheep, bike and punster lay mingled together; The youth was "a little under the wether."
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Drug Dealer & 2 Tikes
Going up my alley on my bike,
passing by a car with 2 little tikes.
Walking up to my metal gate,
Drugdealer does not hesitate.
For he is playing the part of a thug,
asking next if I want to buy some drugs.
Like oxycotten, percocet or crack,
I say “I’m clean and no thanks”
then I turn to him and I do ask,
“Hey, do you want to buy some coloring books? ”
He replies, “no” and I take one more look.
His ear is half cut off and it’s such a scary sight,
I say goodbye and I lock up my bike.
I bet a drug dealer has never been asked
that question before,
I realized I should of just gave them for free,
to the 2 tikes who need so much more.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb 10,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise

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The great rickshaw rider
he carries his newborn child
passengers on the backseat
a widower just cycles
no choice but his bike
father and rickshaw rider
sad thoughts of his dead wife
lovingly holding his child
he rides with his fate
a girl feels her fathers love
happy passengers arrived
a widower and newborn
on their bike for life
@ Ellie Daphne van Stralen
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen

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Cop With No Badge
Cop with no badge jumps out at me,
as I rode my bike to safety.
He had no lights flashing on his car,
thinking he was going to capture me
and take me far.
Then another one did cross my path,
he also gets out with no badge.
First cop asked me questions
“Have I ever killed anyone? ”
“No, I replied, I live in the ghetto
just for fun.”
What, the ______ kind of question is that?
I showed him my Barnes & Noble badge.
Then he got cocky
and called in another One,
She had to search me for a gun.
Then to top it all off,
writing a ticket like an anal cop.
A ticket for not having headlights
on my bike,
Well, they kept me so long,
it became night.
In court the judge laughed
with everyone else,
judge said he was sorry and
put the ticket on the shelf.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb.7,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise

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Boyhood
Boyhood Remembered
Mother and her sister played poker when I came out of the bedroom looking
for my trousers, but mother had just lost them to Aunt Gabriella who refused
to give them back. I sat by the coal fire and warmed my knees; winter with frost
roses on windows. Without long trousers I could not go to school, the idea of this
pleased me, I began reading a Robin Hood book. I didn’t care so much for him,
he was in love with a girl, but I liked the other ones in his gang. “Here, ” mother
said, “I have won back your trousers, your shoes as well; go to school now.” I was
going to take the bike out of the shed, but a monster rat sat there.
” Mother” I yelled, “There is a big rat in the shad it is eating the tires off my bike.”
Mother dropped the cat out of the window, from our third floor flat, just caught it.
“Put the cat in the shed, ” walk to school, it is good for you biking makes you lazy.”
My sister came with a crate of beer she had bought at the supermarket, ” you are
just like little girl frighten by a tiny rat, ” she said, took the bike out, put the dazed
cat on top of the crate and walked in. I was one hour late for school, but there was
no use telling the teacher why, he would only say I was telling tales as usual.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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Why Ist It That Way?
Artists who draw cartoons are cartoonists
Musicians who play bassoons, are bassoon-ists
Players of violins are violinists-flute players flutists
Then why aren’t drummers drum-ists?
Could the writer of Haiku be a Haiku-ist
Or the rider of a bike a bike-u-ist?
Why are linguists not language-ists
Or photographers photo-ists?
Who conjures these very English-isty rules list?
Most probably an English lingu-isty fool-ist
poem by Stanley Cooper

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De Rong Song
Your house is
Falling down
Around
Your
Feet,
And you got
Nought
To eat,
Don't worry
Be happy.
Your fish
Have drowned
You wear
A frown,
You search
But you don't
Own a pound,
Don't worry
Be happy.
You ain't got
Nowhere to
Play,
Just balconies
And
Motorways,
Don't worry
Be happy.
You meet
Someone
You really like,
They tell you to
Get on your bike,
Don't worry
Be happy.
You're on your bike
And all is fine,
You get caught
In a washing line,
Don't worry
Be happy.
You go to school
The school is
Gone,
The Government
Put pressure on,
Don't worry
Be happy.
Your tea is
Dry
Your ice is
Hot,
Your head is
Tied up in a
Not,
Don't worry
Be happy.
You worry
Because
You're hurrying,
And hurry
Because
You're worrying,
Don't happy
Be worried.
poem by Benjamin Zephaniah

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Stranger’s Bike
The stranger’s bike preceding mine did look
Precarious. It’s veering right and left,
And screeching wild; jetting out inky smoke.
I kept a safe distance behind this threat
I reached a small village, after an hour.
He’s there sipping some tea at a kiosk.
He laughed and asked, “It seems I struck a terror”
I smiled and said, “I keep away from risks”.
Finished his tea; lighted a long cigar
And drew few puffs into his lungs
“But why you slowed down? ” asked looking ajar
“My bike, you could have well overtaken”.
I too lighted my favorite cigarette.
Over the rings of smoke I did react
“My friend it’s true I keep away from risks”
“Prefer I stay but close to Don Quixotes”
poem by Sathya Narayana

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