Isn’t that the Freerider Kensington she’s riding?

Huh huh

With Captain’s seat and pneumatic tyres?

Huh huh

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.