I stood on unaccustomed earth
Full of vibrant energy and mirth
The joy of adventure beating within
The thrill of exploring the yet unseen.
Charting three steep mountains straight
Up and down and up again
Till the morning grey turned to blue
Till we had no energy left within too.
So standing in the sunshine at a stall
That stood right amidst these forests, forlorn
We had some biscuits with tea packed before
And set again pedaling higher ever more.
The noon was sunny and warm
Excellent weather to be cycling in the sun
The mountains grew steeper with height hence
The mild hills fading in the distance.
The boys kept pedaling harder than before
This story would be more popular than any other lore
The driving passion of rash and youth
The unrestrained force, the energy uncouth.
They did not see the truck coming the other side
They did not hear the screams of tea-pluckers nearby
They could tell no story worth the telling
For they landed themselves on a red herring.
And although they did not die in the crash
They accept that they had been going rash
The pride is somehow gone now from here
Albeit it hasn’t yet disappeared.
For again I see some young boys
Brothers driven by their unrestrained inner voice
That does not think yet what could go wrong
And when the thinking comes, everything is gone.
Full of vibrant energy and mirth
The joy of adventure beating within
The thrill of exploring the yet unseen.
Charting three steep mountains straight
Up and down and up again
Till the morning grey turned to blue
Till we had no energy left within too.
So standing in the sunshine at a stall
That stood right amidst these forests, forlorn
We had some biscuits with tea packed before
And set again pedaling higher ever more.
The noon was sunny and warm
Excellent weather to be cycling in the sun
The mountains grew steeper with height hence
The mild hills fading in the distance.
The boys kept pedaling harder than before
This story would be more popular than any other lore
The driving passion of rash and youth
The unrestrained force, the energy uncouth.
They did not see the truck coming the other side
They did not hear the screams of tea-pluckers nearby
They could tell no story worth the telling
For they landed themselves on a red herring.
And although they did not die in the crash
They accept that they had been going rash
The pride is somehow gone now from here
Albeit it hasn’t yet disappeared.
For again I see some young boys
Brothers driven by their unrestrained inner voice
That does not think yet what could go wrong
And when the thinking comes, everything is gone.