There is a puddle on my floor
It came from your bike’s big trap door
And oh that feels f***ing rude
My fingers in your Altitude
Putrid stinking melty brown fudge
Old grease and water mixed to sludge
“Fresh dropper housing’s all it needs!“
Acrid tears burn; resentment breeds
Coworkers all chortling with glee
Your Yeti, it just pissed on me
I wish I’d captured what came out
Watersports stories leave some doubts
Half a litre? Maybe some more?
The free weight-savings you have scored!
So you’re a hoser? Ride in rain?
Your bike came with a f***ing drain.
Use it.
