For the express purpose of propogating yet more misinformation, I offer this version which evolved from years of commuting up a long hill at the end of the trip TO work (I was thankful for the downhill to the ferry at the day's end). I ride an old bike, I eat tofu and bran. I'm a crusty old geezer by the name of Bannerman. My hair is unruly, I scoff at the law. I sleep in a shed on a bag full of straw. Ride around, dodgin' doggies, I ride up hills slow, But I'm wiry and I'm pithy, and I'm rarin' to go.
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