Bicycle Spaniard

And it's a long, long way to the top

But when you come down

It's one headlong rush

You've got an itch to scratch

The shiny bits of light

Hanging like stars

Hanging like stars

And Mary says, you're such a restless soul

My bicycle spaniard,

My magyar of cold

You've got an itch to find what's best left lost and cold

My bicycle spaniard,

My poor restless soul

My bicycle spaniard,

My poor restless soul