There's many a track that may bite back
Assen is one by name
It's fast in the bends where everyone tends
To rise to the top of their game
There's rumour I hear of a weekend my dear
Hosting brits from the grids of DD
Where there is every chance they'll get lost deep in France
Or swim drunk in the icy North Sea
Should the guys make it there, both tortoise and hare
Then the race will be frantic but fun
There'll be fairing paint bashed, and Diablos thrashed
Under the sweltering sun
The winner my dear it's blatantly clear
Will be not numbers one, two or three
But the many Duke fans that came in their vans
Via motorway, airport or sea
Our duty we know, barring blizzards of snow
Is to put on a bloody good race
Drink beer by the litre, smoke spliffs by the metre
Pack up and leave in disgrace!