Red Barchetta - RUSH

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

Too far outside the wire where my white-haired uncle waits

Jump to the ground as the turbo slows to cross the borderline

And 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 bachata from a better vanished time

I fire up the wheeling 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 nowhere

Suddenly, ahead of me, across the mountainside A gleaming alloy aircar shoots towards me two

lanes wide I spin around with shrinking tires to run the deadly race

Ghosts screaming through the valley as another joins the chase

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'll leave the giant stranded at the riverside

Race back to the farm, to dream with my uncle at the fireside