In Copenhagen they whisper “Welcome to Bikenhagen” where cyclists are the Knights of the road

Rivers of wheels hum through the rain but all obediently stop at every red light

Cyclists glide like weathered swans past cafés, bridges, and bright painted houses

Bells ring soft through Nordic dawns and cars drivers instantly surrender to the two wheeled army that occupies the city

In years gone by the Danish warlords conquered all before them with mighty swords

Today those swords have been melted down and turned into bicycle frames

Wonderful wonderful Bikenhagen