And now, the end is near
And so I race the final 2k
My friend, yet still I fear
I'll be back at Dorney, next Wednesday
So I eat, until I'm full
And forget, how much I weigh
And more, much more than this, I did it Marty's way
Coaches, I've had a few
But then again, now I'm stuck
With a man, who coaches you,
with judicious use of the word 'fuck'
I rowed every course, but Dorney is where I stay
And more, much more than this, I did it Marty's way
Yes, there were times, I'd even beg
He'd leave alone, my inside leg
But through it all, when I block it out
He'd keep on going and even shout
I faced it all, sat up tall and I did it Marty's way
I've sculled, I've laughed and cried
I've had my fill of this cross-wind
And if, I try and hide, I know I will be binned
To think, I row in that
And yet I stay, to hear him say
"Just go, and fucking row, and do it my way!"
For what is a coach, what has he got?
A nice warm car, that I have not
I am the one who's cold and wet, that he is smarter, I will bet
So now I know, I must go and do it Marty's way
