Mechanical music, adrenaline surge
We'll fire up the willing engine responding with a roar
Wind in my hair, shifting and drifting
I spin around with shrieking tires to run the deadly race
Suddenly ahead of me across the mountainside
To far outside the wire where my white-haired uncle waits
He says it used to be a farm before the Motor Law
Well-weathered leather, hot metal and oil
I strip away the old debris that hides a shining car
Race back to the farm to dream with my uncle at the fireside
Drive like the wind, straining the limits of machine and man
A brilliant red Barchetta from a better vanished time
At the one-lane bridge I leave the giants stranded at the riverside
Go screaming through the valley as another joins the chase
For fifty-odd years to keep it as new, has been his dearest dream
And on Sundays I elude the eyes and hop the Turbine Freight
Publisher: CORE MUSIC PUBLISHING CO
Tires spitting gravel, I commit my weekly crime
Laughing out loud with fear and hope I've got a desperate plan
Down in his barn, my uncle preserved for me an old machine
A gleaming alloy air-car shoots towards me, two lanes wide
The blur of the landscape, every nerve aware
The scented country air, sunlight on chrome
Run like the wind as excitement shivers up and down my spine
Jump to the ground as the Turbo slows to cross the borderline
My uncle has a country place that no one knows about
Songwriters: Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, Neil Peart