The cadence slowed to near zero
Spandex is lying in waste
The corruption of an American hero
Ended our love for the race

The country once cheered for a bike
Though most didn't understand
Beating cancer, Germans, and the French, we did like
So we began to clap our hands

Not all is lost for cycling folks
We still have our bikes and gear
So wax the carbon frames an tighten the rear spokes
A conned youth might excite French fear
Pedal!!! Le Tour is ours next year.