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 turbine slows
Across 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 shiny car
A brilliant red Barchetta
From a better, vanished time
We'll 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 sun the country air
Suddenly I'm gone
The blur of the landscape
Every nerve aware

Suddenly, ahead of me
Across the mountainside
A gleaming alloy aircar
Shoots towards me
Two lanes wide
I spin around with shrieking tires
To run the deadly race
Go screaming throung the valley
As another joins the chase

Run like the wind
Straining to live
It's the machine and man
Laughing out loud
In 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 barn
To dream with my uncle
At the fireside
