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.