LEADER OF THE PACK part 3
Isn’t that the Freerider Kensington she’s riding?
With Captain’s seat and pneumatic tyres?
By the way, where’d ya buy it?
I saw it stood in EdenCare
It had pizzaz, it had the flair
I thought “That’s mine. I’m Leader of the Pack”.
My knees were always letting me down (down down down)
I struggled hard to walk around town;
I couldn’t tackle modest hills
They hurt me queueing at the tills
But now no longer – I’m Leader of the Pack.
My bonnets stencilled “Born to be Wild”
I make pedestrians rattled and riled
They hear me coming with my hooter
They say “Here’s that crazy biddy on her scooter”
I don’t give a bugger – I’m Leader of the Pack.
I love its extra power
It does 8 miles an hour
Hell’s Angels shrink and cower
Pussycats! Pussycats! Pussycats!
We form a line as we head to town
The Three Degrees of Selby renown
There’s me, Fat Pat and Sweaty Madge
Using her dead husband’s old Blue Badge
But I take the breach – I’m Leader of the Pack.
My battery lasts for 45 miles
I take up all of Morrison’s aisles
And when it beeps “Rawhide” in reverse
Shoppers jump and swear and curse
I tell ‘em to shift – I’m Leader of the Pack.
And when at last from pain I am free
I want my chariot buried with me
I want to feel its presence near
An Old Aged Pensioned Boadicea
Let them remember the Leader of the Pack.