The peloton gathered, the engines revved low,

For Truants Thirteen, a charitable flow.

Bikes polished and ready, the spirit so keen,

But one cosmic duo, nowhere to be seen.

[Power Chord Stab]

Dr. Matt and his Colin, a glorious pair,

His unicorn buddy, with flowing pink hair.

Absent from tarmac, no gears they would grind,

Left heavy metal brothers, trailing behind.

[Unicorn Gallop Riff]

"Work was more important!" The alibi grand,

"It IS rocket science!" He proclaimed across the land.

A noble pursuit, beyond mortal ken,

But for a brotherhood of cyclists, a bitter amen.

[Spacey Synth Swell]

Oh, Matt! You're the one who pulled the cosmic plug!

[Vocal Snarl]

DEAD TO US! A whisper, then a roar, a shrug!

DEAD TO US! Yeah, the gears won't turn for you anymore!

[Crowd Chant Build-up]

Yet through the exhaust fumes, a glimmering spark,

You're always in our hearts, even in the dark.

A complex equation, a paradox strange,

Our love for you, Matt, can never quite change.

[Emotional Guitar Weep]

Leicester McDonald's, a sacred domain,

Will never quite taste or feel quite the same.

No post-ride burger, no sweet, greasy fry,

Without your cosmic presence, beneath the grey sky.

[Distorted Bass Drop]

So we chant to the stars, with a thunderous sound,

DEAD TO US! Where rocket men are found!

DEAD TO US! On hallowed cycling ground!

DEAD TO US! But in our hearts, forever bound!

[Breakdown]

[Spoken Word Lament: "But seriously Matt, you're still a legend."]

[Final Crash]

[Fade-Out]