I’m Somerset born and I’m Somerset bred,
I’m weak in me arms and I’m soft in me head,
But me thighs and me calves they know what they should do
So I cycle round Somerset taking the view.
I rode down to Exmoor and climbed to the top
On Dunkery Beacon the wind it don’t stop
So I raced back to Bridgwater quick as I knew
To get in stuck in a queue on the Penel Orlieu
Now Coleridge and Wordsworth both loved taking stock
Of the sights that they saw on the lovely Quantocks
But I fear from their poems they were out of their box
Should have stuck to the queue on the Penel Orlieu
The Mendips are nearly so high as they’m deep
Caves down below us and up Draycott Steep
And all of they grockles who’re just passing through
For the Minehead bound queue on the Penel Orlieu
The Blackdowns, The Poldens now they ain’t that high
But they still cause me tears and a burn in me thighs
But if I need a rest I know just what to do.
So I head for the queue on the Penel Orlieu.