All the Seasons Long

The breeze is blowing on my shoulders as I pedal hard through the snow. My tired legs just won't give up, my chilly cheeks aglow. The wind is hitting my bike with a force so strong that I cannot fight it, of course. The cold is slowly getting to me, my voice is crackly, dry and hoarse. And I know that it's winter, And I know it is cold, But I can't stop biking, All the winter long. The leaves are falling slowly down, I've rode my bike all over town, My shoes are squeaking as I ride, my hair is whipped around. The crisp fall colors surround me, and I stop for breath as I buy some sweets, I munch on them as I ride, up the hill and around the creek. And I know that it is fall, And I know it is cool, But I can't stop biking, All the fall long. I sit and ride all morning, no time for any mourning. The spring has come, and I am done, the days so awfully boring. I pick a dandelion, as I pedal by one, I blow it as I go, watching it blow away, and it's gone. And I know that it is spring, And I know it is warm, But I can't stop biking, All the spring long. Now comes the most painful season, and I hope to bike for no reason. The hot has crept upon me, And I know that this is treason. And I know that it's summer, And I know it is hot, But I can't stop biking, All the summer long.