Why I stole David Cameron’s bicycle

I have a little confession to make.
Nothing I’m proud of, make no mistake.
But now the press has settled down
And the green of summer is now crisp Autumn brown

I’m just going to come out and say it.
And yes, I’m really going to pray it
Doesn’t cause such a tabloid furore,
But it will - obviously - like it happened before.

I stole David Cameron’s bicycle in the summer of July
.God, I’m so embarrassed I think I’d rather die
But - listen to me though - let me make my cas
eBefore someone congratulates me with a fist in face

Which I strongly discourage - nothing got solved with violence
Which is why I’ve chosen now to break my much publicized silence.
Let me paint you the picture, of what happened that day
I promise you I’m not some thug who made a swift get-away

I’m just a guy, aged 32, my name inconsequential
Revealing my dark secret, that so far was so essential
Information referential to something so confidential
That I thought if people knew me they’d see me as influential

And I don’t want to come across as a Tory hating, bandit
I really dread to think that people think that’s how I planned it
I’m not a Labour partisan, don’t think that of me, please
I honestly used to think that word just meant a type of cheese

So why did I do it? I can hear you all thinking
I can tell from the rhythmic way you’re all blinking
Do you think me an anarchist, fraught with wrong-doings?
Or perhaps a saint, with a mind for justice brewing?

Either way - the news has dumped me on the highest of the pedestals
Everyone in the UK seemed delighted with my pedal skills
Accompanied by a riotous act against a Tory party leader
I’m a beacon of pure hope for every News of the World reader.

So why did I do it? I can hear you all processing
Well - alert The Daily Mail - the lunatic is confessing
So let me put it right. Heckle me if you like -
The truth is - it just looked like a really cool bike.

Seriously. I don’t care about the Tory Parties policies
I hope that Mr Cameron can just take a bit of solace the
Real reason I performed this quite well publicized faux pas
Is not the loony actions of an indignant bourgeois

Just a guy who fell in love with a set of handlebars
I couldn’t give a stuff about the toxic fumes of cars
Ever since I was a boy it was my dream item to own
Not my polite way of helping the already doomed Ozone



Like Mr Camerons doing which I guess he thinks is proper cool
I’m sure with every pedal push he’s fixing every molecule
But know my act was cowardly, and certainly not heroic
It wasn’t to inspire the work of a finger on the pulse poet

It was just what it was. A boyish misdemeanour
Just think of me as an overenthusiastic street cleaner
Who had a dream and took it, and restored his childhood youth
In exchange for a reputation as a man who acts uncouth

When I curled my fingers round it’s nimble silver frame
I catapulted myself into the catacombs of fame
Whilst it looked like I was a beacon of political pretension
All I wanted was a bike with a decent front fork suspension

And that is what I got. For committing a crime so tiny.
Who needs anarchy when there’s a set of wheels this shiny?
So like my bike, I now can steer my life to back on track
And if Mr Cameron’s listening - no I’m not giving it back.