Welcome back to earth, Pilgrim.
Hard truth in les Alpes. You're 38,
of sound mind, but broke bike,
supplanted, slashed up in torn Spandex.
And just the other day,
seven years' good luck
buckled on Belgian pavé.
Time to let the ribs stick to waffles?
Or maybe upholster a sidearm,
in a clumsy swat, like Jordanwith a bat. Time to rest.
(pas cafe au lait)
They never get old, unlike Ullrich, the Badger, Pantani bought the farm.
Even the Man of the World took a shotgun to the face
He's still pissed off about it.
He's still pissed off about it.
even a bowl of cold cereal in your hotel room.
And so welcome back. You are a water-bottle cage
for the other guy. Again.
You are more like us, now.
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