Red Barchetta - Live in Cleveland

My uncle has a country place, that no one knows about
 He says it used to be a farm, before the Motor Law
 And on Sundays I elude the 'Eyes', and hop the Turbine freight
 To far outside the Wire, where my white-haired uncle waits
 Jump to the ground
 As the Turbo slows to cross the borderline
 Run like the wind
 As excitement shivers up and down my spine
 Down in his barn
 My uncle preserved for me an old machine -
 For fifty-odd years
 To keep it as new has been his dearest dream
 I strip away the old debris, that hides a shining car
 A brilliant red Barchetta, from a better, vanished time
 Fire up the willing engine, responding with a roar!
 Tires spitting gravel, I commit my weekly crime...
 Wind in my hair -
 Shifting and drifting -
 Mechanical music -
 Adrenaline surge -
 Well-weathered leather
 Hot metal and oil
 The scented country air
 Sunlight on chrome
 The blur of the landscape
 Every nerve aware
 Suddenly, ahead of me, across the mountainside
 A gleaming alloy air-car, shoots towards me, two lanes wide
 I spin around with shrieking tires, to run the deadly race
 Go screaming through the valley as another joins the chase
 Run like the wind
 Straining the limits of machine and man
 Laughing out loud
 With fear and hope, I've got a desperate plan
 At the one-lane bridge
 I leave the giants stranded
 At the riverside
 Race back to the farm
 To dream with my uncle
 At the fireside...