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Tour de France – a Celebration in Song

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david:
[sung to the Christmas carol tune Joy to the World]

Joy to the world, the Tour is come!  Let France reveal her charms:
The Kings of the Mountains, the bidon-littered fountains,
And piss-stained Lycra shorts.  The French are such good sports,
They welcome the peloton with open arms.

Joy to the world, the Mountain stage delays all traffic there.
Spectators in their campers are opening their hampers
To feast on meaty thighs, they're a real treat for the eyes,
And a quick glimpse of scrawny chests without a hair.

Is that a rouleur bonking there?  He needs some energy.
The soigneur is all set to hand him a musette.
The team car gets too near, the fellow's down, I fear.
He has caused the entire 'bus an injury.

Look at that rider over there – his bottom bracket's gone!
He hasn't got a sit-upon to shield him from a braze-on.
His basket in the front is where he keeps his  – lunch
Which will get some attention after he's won.

How far to Les Champs-Elysses, the last stage of the race?
They circle 'round Triumphal Arch, then tunnel through to Jeanne d'Arc,
The Place de la Concorde, and the final reward:
A kiss from two charming girls upon the face.

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