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Red Barchetta

Sector Two专辑

  • My uncle has a country place, that no-one knows about
    He says it used to be a farm, before the
    Motor law
    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
    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-
    Adrenalin 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 toward me,
    two lanes wide
    I spin around with shrieking tries, to run the deadly race
    Go 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 leave the giants stranded
    At the riverside
    Race back to the farm
    To dream with my uncle
    At the fireside...
  • My uncle has a country place, that no-one knows about
    He says it used to be a farm, before the
    Motor law
    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
    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-
    Adrenalin 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 toward me,
    two lanes wide
    I spin around with shrieking tries, to run the deadly race
    Go 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 leave the giants stranded
    At the riverside
    Race back to the farm
    To dream with my uncle
    At the fireside...