đ¶tune of âThe Gamblerâ with apologies to Kenny Rogersđ¶
On a hot summerâs morning, on a road bound for nowhere,
I met up with a stranger, I passed him once or twice;
He peered through his glasses, and said without expression,
âFor a taste of your water, Iâll give you some advice.â
So I handed him the bottle; he drank down my last swallow,
Payinâ no attention to the bikersâ honor code;
The day got deathly hot, but it didnât seem to matter;
âSon, you havenât lived âtil Monte Sano you have rode.â
(chorus)
Youâve got to know when to crank âem,
Know when to yank âem,
Know when youâve lost a lap,
Know when youâve won;
You never count your ribbons,
While youâre headed for the finish;
Thereâll be time enough for countinâ,
When the bell lapâs done.
âEvery biker knows, the secret to survivinâ,
Is knowing how much pasta, you should try to eat;
âCause every rideâs a winner, and every rideâs a loser;
The best you can hope for is to die in your cleats.â
When he finished speakinâ, he turned his eyes to pavement,
Wheeled up Monte Sano, in the midday heat;
Somewhere on that mountain, the Biker he broke even,
And in his final sprint, I found a chainring I could keep.
(chorus)
by Team Redneck circa 1999
*photo: âThe Padrone is dead to me!â
Mountain of Health, eh?
You over came the boss?