Don't look too close at my fingers 'cause they're likely to bleed
from all the scratching and biting I do, everytime you leave
this is my first pang of pain and it's poetry to me
this is my first summer of cycling and it's poetry to me

but, who who will believe me
yeah who, who will believe me

it's parked cars and traffic and I will move past it now
I'll catch up to you, we'll see what these wheels can do
someday, maybe, I'll catch up to you
someday, baby, we'll do what we want to do

but, who, who will believe me
yeah, who, who will believe me

yeah the concrete's harder
and I will ride farther than you've ever seen