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Текст песни Rush - Red Barchetta

Rush - Red Barchetta слова песни




My uncle has a country placeThat 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 FreightTo far outside the Wire,Where my white-haired uncle waits.Jump to the groundAs 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 debrisThat hides a shining car.A brilliant red BarchettaFrom a better, vanished time.I 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-carShoots towards me, two lanes wide.I spin around with shrieking tires,To run the deadly race,Go screaming through the valleyAs another joins the chase.Drive like the wind,Straining the limits of machine and man.Laughing out loudWith fear and hope, I`ve got a desperate plan.At the one-lane bridgeI leave the giants stranded at the riverside.Race back to the farm, to dream with my uncle at the fireside

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