Red Barchetta - Live in Cleveland - MP Version

My uncle has a country place that no one knows about
 He says it used to be a farm before the Motor Law
 On Sundays I elude the eyes and hop the turbine freight
 To far outside the wire where my white-haired uncle waits
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 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
 I fire up, the willing engine responding with a roar
 Tires spitting gravel, I commit my weekly crime
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 Wind in my hair
 Shifting and drifting
 Mechanical music
 Adrenalin surge
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 Well-weathered leather, hot metal and oil
 The scented country air
 Sunlight on chrome, the blur of the landscape
 Every nerve aware
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 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
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 Drive 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 by the fireside