THE BALLAD OF THE (TON)

HE MOUNTED ON HIS VELOCETTE
SWATHED IN LEATHER BLACK
HIS GRIM DISTORTED FACE WAS SET
AS HE LAY ACROSS ITS BACK

HIS ENGINE THUNDERED INTO LIFE
THE SILENCE NOW WAS RENT
A FINAL THOUGHT OF STRESS AND STRIFE
AND ALL THE MONEY SPENT

HE SPEEDS ALONG THE QUIET ROAD
THE HEDGEROWS RUSHING BY
THEN CROUCHES LOW TO SPREAD THE LOAD
AND SHOUTS A VICTORY CRY

WITH SPEEDO REACHING NINETY EIGHT
HE FAILS TO READ A BEND
HE HITS THE KERB AND SOARS WITH GRACE
TO MEET A TRAGIC END

SEEN ON HIS GRAVESTONE IN THE SUN
THE LETTERS BOLD AND BLACK
HE NEVER NEW HE DID THE TON
AT THE PRICE OF A BROKEN BACK