Lines Written On My First Ever Climb of the Hill On Lucas Road, December 8, 2007
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Lines Written On My First Ever Climb of the Hill On Lucas Road, December 8, 2007
Lines Written On My First Ever Climb of the Hill On Lucas Road, December 8, 2007
On the Lucas Road there's a lil' ol' bump.
If hills were like trees, it's a lil' ol' stump
But that Lucas Road and it's lil' ol' bump,
It was too much hill for a Clyde!
Near there was a Clyde - we'll name him Neil,
For sake of the rhyme, no other appeal-
That Lucas Road bump made him squeal,
It was too much hill for that Clyde!
It wasn't too long, it wasn't too high,
It was steep and short and curved to the side,
And that steep and short and curve to the side
Made it too much hill for that Clyde.
Time and again he'd ride his bike
up half of the hill, and then take a hike,
It was just too much hill for that poor bike,
And too much hill for that Clyde!
Time and again he'd throw his heft-
belly a-bouncing, head tilted to the left-
on the Lucas Road and have nothing left
to climb that hill like a Clyde!
"Other cyclists climb that hill" said he,
"sometimes in groups of two or three,
And other Neils more fine than me
have climbed that hill like a Clyde."
"Why can't I climb it?" said Neil in distress.
"If that hill beats me, I'm in such a mess
I should give up cycling and take up chess,
but I can't climb that hill. I'm a Clyde."
And then on a cold, dark December day,
the sunshine peeked from a bleak sky of gray,
And Neil thought he'd try again that day,
To climb that hill as a Clyde.
Down Penn, down Ward, and downward he sped,
Down Nottingham Lane the Neil-clyde ped-
eled, faster and faster he sped,
To the hill too much for that Clyde.
His legs were a blur, his lungs were a gasping,
His Bontrager Index Shifters were rasping,
As for the lowest gearing he was grasping,
As he climbed that hill, did that Clyde.
He huffed and he puffed and he rode that bike clear
over the top of the hill, and folks far and near
heard him shout, "I'm not even in my lowest gear!
I climbed that hill like a Clyde!"
Stories are supposed to have morals, yasee,
Some meaning for you, some meaning for me,
I know what I think, and that's fine with me,
Meaning I'll let you decide:
Whenever you face a great big hump,
Whenever you face a lil' ol' bump,
Remember Neil and his lil' ol' bump
and climb that hill like a Clyde!
On the Lucas Road there's a lil' ol' bump.
If hills were like trees, it's a lil' ol' stump
But that Lucas Road and it's lil' ol' bump,
It was too much hill for a Clyde!
Near there was a Clyde - we'll name him Neil,
For sake of the rhyme, no other appeal-
That Lucas Road bump made him squeal,
It was too much hill for that Clyde!
It wasn't too long, it wasn't too high,
It was steep and short and curved to the side,
And that steep and short and curve to the side
Made it too much hill for that Clyde.
Time and again he'd ride his bike
up half of the hill, and then take a hike,
It was just too much hill for that poor bike,
And too much hill for that Clyde!
Time and again he'd throw his heft-
belly a-bouncing, head tilted to the left-
on the Lucas Road and have nothing left
to climb that hill like a Clyde!
"Other cyclists climb that hill" said he,
"sometimes in groups of two or three,
And other Neils more fine than me
have climbed that hill like a Clyde."
"Why can't I climb it?" said Neil in distress.
"If that hill beats me, I'm in such a mess
I should give up cycling and take up chess,
but I can't climb that hill. I'm a Clyde."
And then on a cold, dark December day,
the sunshine peeked from a bleak sky of gray,
And Neil thought he'd try again that day,
To climb that hill as a Clyde.
Down Penn, down Ward, and downward he sped,
Down Nottingham Lane the Neil-clyde ped-
eled, faster and faster he sped,
To the hill too much for that Clyde.
His legs were a blur, his lungs were a gasping,
His Bontrager Index Shifters were rasping,
As for the lowest gearing he was grasping,
As he climbed that hill, did that Clyde.
He huffed and he puffed and he rode that bike clear
over the top of the hill, and folks far and near
heard him shout, "I'm not even in my lowest gear!
I climbed that hill like a Clyde!"
Stories are supposed to have morals, yasee,
Some meaning for you, some meaning for me,
I know what I think, and that's fine with me,
Meaning I'll let you decide:
Whenever you face a great big hump,
Whenever you face a lil' ol' bump,
Remember Neil and his lil' ol' bump
and climb that hill like a Clyde!