Riding Double is For the Birds

I do not like this riding double

I do not like this toil and trouble

I do not like this riding two up

I am here to tell you it sucks, sucks, sucks!

I can not see through his silver lid

I can not see the road ahead

I can not see if we will go straight

I can not see if it were the Golden Gate!

I had to contort to get on that bike

My bum, it hurt, after a short, short ride

Maybe if I were thin, thin, thin

I would not cry this awful din

I have to trust, will he ride us true

I have to wonder, does he have a clue

I do not like the way he drives

I do not like that I am not the eyes

Control I need, in my own hands

Control I need for all speed bands

I chop my fingers into his sides

Like a horseman spurs his horse's hide

 As his hand twists off the throttle
The sudden deceleration does not coddle
Our lids they knock, my body unable
To stop us acting like Newton's Cradle

I refrain from tickling to regain my pride
I really do want to make it home alive

I love him dearly, but he heard words

Riding double is for the birds.