Hey Kids We're the Missenden Flyers! ft. TMF Lyrics

Welcome to our club, we don't mind what you ride, be it sports-bike, cruiser or commuter

Classic, bagger, chopper, bobber, cafe-racer, street-fighter, ADV, trike or a scooter

We're on the 413 and we're bound for Super Sausage, the Full Monty is an absolute delight

Clutch in, one down, open up the throttle, not a cloud anywhere in sight

Sausage egg and bacon, tea, beans and black pudding, fried bread, tomatoes and 'shrooms

Changing up the box, getting close to the red line, tin cans choking in the fumes

Weaving and filtering, dodging all the traffic, biking is a bit like having wings

The sound and the power and the danger and the thrill, these are a lot of our favourite things

We'll all meet in the car park, round the back of the Old Red Lion

The lads and the lasses apprehensive and excited for a blast out on the old iron

Sunday mornings wouldn't be the same without a loud one, all through the shires

Come and join our club, we welcome one and all

Hey kids, we're the Missenden Flyers

We're cruising down a B-road and the sky is turning dark, this wasn't what was forecast on the app

Sunshine, dry roads, perfect for a burn-up, now it looks decidedly crap

That thick black cloud has appeared out of nowhere, I'm sure I felt a little spot of drizzle

Might have to dismount and don a load of wet-gear, let's hope it's just a bit of superficial

I can feel the pressure dropping, this don't look all that good, I reckon we are in for a soak

What is going on with the Great British Summer, it's a meteorological joke

Shutting down the throttle, gotta slow right down, I can barely see five feet ahead

I don't think I have seen any rain quite like this, I'm wet in places I never knew I had

We'll all meet in the car park, round the back of the Old Red Lion

The lads and the lasses apprehensive and excited for a blast out on the old iron

Sunday mornings wouldn't be the same without a loud one, all through the shires

Come and join our club, we welcome one and all

Hey kids, we're the Missenden Flyers

Thankfully the rain's stopped, the sky is getting bright, no dramas, just a little bit of damp

Winding on the gas, but something isn't right, check the dash for an engine warning lamp

Nope, all good, but what can it be, 'cause the bike won't stop misfiring

Some of that rain must have gotten in the engine, damaging the carbs or the wiring

There's a BP ahead and they're all pulling in, time to stretch the legs and get some super juice

I bet that's what it is, I've been running low on fuel, the sensor in the tank's come loose

Top the tanks off, saddle up and hit the tarmac, bike's now running like a dream

Giving it the beans and we're all making progress, heads down in the slipstream

We'll all meet in the car park, round the back of the Old Red Lion

The lads and the lasses apprehensive and excited for a blast out on the old iron

Sunday mornings wouldn't be the same without a loud one, all through the shires

Come and join our club, we welcome one and all

Hey kids, we're the Missenden Flyers

On the 422, take a right out of Buckingham, we've very nearly reached our destination

Still in a 30, we don't want to get a flash, so we lay back on the acceleration

Looking forward to the stop so we can all have a stretch and we can also have a catch-up and a babble

Two miles to go and I think I smell sausages, me backside's nibbling the saddle

Pull into the car park, over by the bikers, a multitude of other riders here

Wall-to-wall bikes and a sense of camaraderie, everybody's grinning ear to ear

The Scran don't disappoint, a plate full of heaven, served with a mug of Rosie Lee

Finish up, saddle up, back out on the tarmac, ride safe and ride free

We'll all meet in the car park, round the back of the Old Red Lion

The lads and the lasses apprehensive and excited for a blast out on the old iron

Sunday mornings wouldn't be the same without a loud one, all through the shires

Come and join our club, we welcome one and all

Hey kids, we're the Missenden Flyers

Still in a 30, still in a 30, still in a 30, right, Nationals

Drop it down a gear or two and twist the throttle to the stop

A motorcycle symphony recital

We'll all meet in the car park, round the back of the Old Red Lion

The lads and the lasses apprehensive and excited for a blast out on the old iron

Sunday mornings wouldn't be the same without a loud one, all through the shires

Come and join our club, we welcome one and all

Hey kids, we're the Missenden Flyers

Hey kids, we're the Missenden Flyers

Hey kids, we're the Missenden Flyers

Hey kids, we're the Missenden Flyers