Simoncelli, never backed down,
Simoncelli, never wore a frown,
Simoncelli, surpassed the best,
Simoncelli, better than the rest.
He was the man from Catollica in fair old Italy,
For his passing, out of respect I composed this symphony,
Running the curbs with a knee he passed the competition,
Only when the fireworks did fly, did the dreams come to fruition.
Conquered 125 and 250 as though they were Nursery,
Taking lessons from Valentino, from his vast bursary,
He never gave up, even when a podium was on the table,
Now his tales are confined to the great old Fable.
Moto GP just isn't the same without his crazy antics,
No matter who you are, he's coming through - his riding was charismatic,
Outside, inside it doesn't matter,
Simoncelli won't stick around to natter.
So rather than mourning his loss, let's all remember him for what he did,
Taking positions from the greats as though they were kids,
For we may have lost a true character,
Simoncelli can now ride on forever.
RIP Simo - you shall never be forgotten.