My Brompton weighs a ton

[hirez]

I say old chap. Where's my PSP22?

Jolly good (x3)

Right-ho!

Hang back, drive away - give the cyclist some room
You're going to cut me up when my legs go boom
Left-hand to The Lyric and the forward stop-line
Got to be in the snug bar before the fellow calls time
Cause a chap's reputation depends on what
Top sort of style his dinner-jacket cuts
Good British wool - super cut so nice
It's really rather fine, you won't dispute the price
Cause it's plain to see - it's a strain to be
Commuting to the office without a flask of tea
Because I cycle through Hackney, Chelsea and Camden
It's early-closing in Borough and I've really got to run
It's a big wonder why I haven't gone under
A wagon turning left or a blighter in a Humber
A biker missing all types of traffic hell
All this because I ride so well

Chorus:
Rock - get up - get down
My Brompton weighs a ton
Hold it (x4)

(Blame messrs. Sulston and Trafford)