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, 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 Then run like the wind as excitement shivers up and down my spine But 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 Ooh, fired 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 t...