When the Road Calls, Peddle
The road is ready, the stages are set,
Hungry for your blood, your tears and your sweat.
Coiled out before you, a snake lying in wait.
Don’t fear its teeth, this is your road to dictate.
The scenery changes. A landscape unknown.
Miles are eaten. Legs grow sore to the bone.
Yet the battle goes on, through rain and through climb.
This is a trail of you. A trial of the road. A trial of time.
The end is near. Your heart starts to pace,
Vying to be champion of the climb, sprint and race.
The pack falls behind. There is nowhere to hide,
But this is what you live for. You were born to ride.
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