As I cycled out one summer's day,

Upon our old and trusty, somewhat rusty, steed,

I never realised just how quiet it could be

With only the squeaks and the rattles for my company.

The absence of your presence, the loss of your sweet voice,

The silence sat behind me, I was saddled with Hobson's Choice,

The feeling left me bereft.

"You've lost your missus!" an oik did yell,

I had, it's true, how could he tell?

"Get off and milk it!" another wag cried;

I have to say that once I tried.

But it wasn't a cow, I wonder how

He made that mistake;

Perhaps he was but half awake.

Anyway, the ride didn't seem the same as it once was,

It's not hard to say why, no 'perhaps', no 'because'...

It's that... there was only me… on that bicycle made for two,

And without you... I think my tandem days are through.