GASBAGS Songs

Jerusalem
And did those wheels at Christmas Time,
Ride over Cleveland’s mountains green?
And were the famous Gasbags club
In Chop Gate’s pub ‘The Buck’ all seen?
And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon their pints of beer?
And were the Gasbags seen guzzling there
Among those drinks so fine and clear?

Bring me my bike with polished wheels
Bring me my nobbly high-speed tyre
Bring me my frame of alloy steel
Bring me my saddle of desire
I will not get a punctured lung
Until I crash on Carlton Bank
And then we’ll reach the old Blackwell Ox
To straighten Malcolm’s bike and crank

Oh Come all ye faithfull
Oh come all ye Gasbags, Joyful and triumphant.
Oh come ye, oh come to the ‘Blackwell Ox’.
Come and ride with us,
Guzzle with the Gasbags..

Chorus:

Oh let’s go on a bike-ride, Oh let’s go on a bike-ride,
Oh let’s go on a bike-ride with Mike on his bike.

Chair of the Gasbags, No Light on his bike,
Lo he ignores all of the Highway Code.
Very reckless,
Gassing, riding 3 abreast

Sing, Angrove Singers, Sing at every pub stop.
Sing all ye cyclists in heaven above
Glory to the Gasbags
Riding home for Christmas.

Yea, Mike we greet thee, Born in April – sometime?
Chair of the Gasbags has been voted out!
Word of the chairman’s
Now ignored by everyone.

The GASBAGS theme tune
BLOOD ON THE SADDLE

There was Blood on the saddle
And Blood on the ground
And a great big puddle
Of Blood all around

The GASBAG lay in it
All Bloody with gore
He ain't gonna ride
His cycle no more

The GASBAG lay in it
All Bloody and tears
His Handlebars stuck
Right through both his ears

The GASBAG was bloody
From head to his toes
He doesn't look pretty
With a pedal up his nose

The GASBAG lay in it
The pain made him sob
The Front Wheel bent round
And smashed up his gob

The GASBAG lay in it
All Bloody and red
His Mountain Bike fell on him
And mashed up his head

The GASBAG was bleeding
And shouting for mum
His saddle was twisted
And stuck up his bum

The Moral of the story
Comes as no surprise
You shouldn't drink and cycle
And then shut your eyes

Dashing to the pub
On a 2 wheeled mountain bike
Down the road we go
Chasing after Mike
Bells on handlebars ring
Making spirits bright
What fun it is to ride and sing
On a bike ride home tonight

Oh, Ring your bells, Ring your bells
Ring them all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
On the GASBAGS ride today

Puttin’ on the Agony, Puttin’ on the style
That’s what all the GASBAGS are doin’ all the while
When I look around me I sometimes have to smile
See’in all the GASBAGS puttin’ on the style
GASBAG on his bicycle , cycling like he’s mad
With a pair of lycra shorts he’s nicked off Stuart’s dad
He always goes cross-country just to see his girlfriend smile
But he knows he’s only Puttin’ on the style

What a day for a bikeride,
What a day for a bikeridin’ boy
And now I’m off on a bikeride
Bikin’ with my bundle of joy
And even if time ain’ really on my side,
It’s one of those days for takin’ a ride outside
I think today I’ll guzzle a really good brew,
And when we get home I’ll try for a really good sleep.
I’ve been havin’ a good time
I’ve got some extra beer inside my bag
And if we stop for a ‘quick one’
I may be lucky and we’ll have a good shop
And you can be sure that if you’re feelin’ right
A GASBAG will keep you warm long into the night
Tomorrow at breakfast you may long for some more
But you can’t walk because your bum’s so sore

THE GASBAGS IN HOLLAND

1. We waited a long time then dashed on the ferry
Into the posh bar where we made so merry.
Then up the next morning with such eager glee
Before we'd gone far it was Wijk aan der Zee.

Chorus

I saw twelve bikes. Where?
There on the track!
Where on the track? Right there!
Some little bikes with bags on, Well I declare,
Going huff puffer ding dong on the flat. Get that!

2. Our bike ride got colder as we cycled north
Through Egmond and Polder and Hargen and Bergen.
Then there we met Zoë and Paul on Dutch bikes,
Our toes touched the sea, then rode sandbanks and dikes.

Chorus

3. On the next morning with Texel in mind
Jeff to the rescue of ferry card kind.
Our lunch at Den Burg was of pancakes and soup.
Back to the ferry, we just made the loop.

Chorus

4. We fast tracked to Den Hoorn the ancient seaport,
Neil searched for postcards and nearly was bought.
Conscripts in plenty just waiting to sail.
We fell off the dike after lunch with a wail.

Chorus

5. Then on to cheese Edam and old Volendam,
This posh seaside hotel, 'twas there that we swam.
We pedalled to Marken with predat'ry ducks,
Shooed 'em with clogs but we just had no luck.

Chorus

6. We biked through the hail reaching old Amsterdam
And stayed at a hostel where clients would cost you.
The weather got colder as we reached the sea,
The sea it got rougher and we lost our tea.

Chorus

7. We said early farewells to Bev, John and Bridget,
While Ray and his punctures produced quite a fidget.
Naoko and Margaret were quite indisposed,
While Pam, Mike and Neil night-clubbed, twisted and posed.

Chorus

Last time: The Gasbags returned in sound body and mind.
We hope you've enjoyed this our tale while you've dined.

Tune: A Windmill in old Amsterdam

Words: Margaret Heaton

Land of Hope & Glory
Land of Hope and Glory, Gasbags ride through the rain,
Following our esteemed leader, through the ache and the pain.
Wider still and wider, shall our beer-guts spread,
Gasbags we are mighty, We’ll get mightier yet.
Gasbags we are mighty, We’ll get mightier yet.

Rhudolph the red-nosed Reindeer
(The missing link from the Gasbags Opera)
Bridget the Gasbag’s Girlfriend, had a very shiny bike,
And if you ever saw it, you will know just what it’s like.
All of the other Gasbags, used to laugh and call it names.
They would never let poor Bridget – join in all the Gasbags games.
Then one ride on Christmas Eve, Chairman came to say..
Bridget with your bike so bright – won’t you lead our ride tonight?
Oh how the Gasbags guzzled, swilling down their pints of ale
Bridget the Gasbag’s girlfriend led them over hill and dale.
Then the other girlfriends came – to the A G M.
Discrimination Policy – Equal opportunity!
Oh how the Gasbags guzzled, swilling down their pints of ale,
Bridget the Gasbag’s girlfriend – introduced the new fe-male.

JINGLE BELLS
Dashing to the pub, on a 2 wheeled Mountain Bike.
Down the road we go, Chasing after Mike.
Bells on handlebars ring, making spirits bright,
What fun it is to ride and sing on a bike-ride home tonight.

Oh Ring your bells, ring your bells,
Ring them all the way..
Oh what fun it is to ride On a Gasbag’s ride Today

Rhapsody in the Saddle
**The GASBAGS Opera… **

Imagine there’s no biking, It’s easy if you try.
No saddles below us, Above us only sky
Imaging all the people with no bikes to ride..ah.

Imagine there’s no pub-stops, It isn’t hard to do
Nowhere to drink some Black Sheep, And no Seabrooks too
Imagine all the GASBAGS with no-where to go

You may say I’m a dreamer…but I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the GASBAGS will become so strong

Imagine no sore bottoms, I wonder if you can
No need for cream or aspirins, no more over-hang
Imagine there’s no GASBAGS cycling through the rain

You may say I’m a dreamer…etc..

I’d like to build the world a bike and cycle to the pub
Drink Black Sheep beer and have no fear
Of where our saddles rub
I’d like to teach the world to ride in perfect harmony
I’d like to hold my handle-bars, and ride in company
I’d like to see the world for once all wearing GASBAGS kit
And hear them echo through the hills that GASBAGS never quit.

I’m gonna oil up my cogs and chain
just for the GASBAGS ride, just for the GASBAGS ride,
just for the GASBAGS ride

We’re gonna Bike and Guzzle all day….

We’re gonna pass Cleveland Wheelers men
When on the GASBAGS ride

Great Ayton and Stokesley
Biking and Guzzling
Biking and Guzzling
Biking and Guzzling
Great Ayton and Stokesley
Biking and Guzzling
So ci e teeeeeeee

I am cycling, I am cycling
Home again, down the street
I am cycling, Stormy weather,
To be near you, on my feet.

I am flying, I am flying
Like a gasbag, on a ride
I am flying, passing Wheelers
To be with you, by your side

Can you hear me, can you hear me
Ringing my bell, riding fast
I am dying, for a guzzle
Get the beer out, I won’t be last.

In the town where I was born, lived a man
Who’s name was Mike
And he told us of his life
In the land of Mountain bikes
So we rode off to the sun, till we found a pub
We liked
And we stopped off for a beer
On a GASBAGS’s Mountain bike
We all ride on a GASBAG Mountain Bike
And our friends have joined the club
Plenty more of them are in the pub
And the girls have joined as well
Now the GASBAGS rides are just like heaven
We all…

I once had a girl
Or should I say, she once had me
She showed me her bike,
Isn’t it real, Titanium steel.
She asked me to ride and she said we could go anywhere
I said that the pub would be good so we set off right there
I sat on my bike,
Changing up the gear, drinkin’ her beer
We looked for the pub,
Went to the Buck, Then had a Flowers
She said that she worked O’er the Border
Down by Albert Dock
I told her I didn’t and then she got hold of my handlebars
And when we got home
GASBAGS had been, wasn’t that mean!
So I poured a beer,
She took some calls, feeling my innertube.

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