To the tune of Aqualung - Jethro Tull
Sitting on the Charge Spoon
Eyeing up the route sheet, he'll be there soon.
Snot running down his nose
Freezing fingers feeling sweaty clothes
Oh Randonneur!
Sun streaked with clouds, an old man wandering lonely
Taking time the only way he knows
Legs hurting bad as he climbs up to the Worlds End
And he drops down to the café to warm his feet.
Randonneur, my friend, don't you start away uneasy.
You poor old sod, you see, it's only me.