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Raise your can of beer on high and seal your fate forever |
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Our best years have past us by, the golden age of leather |
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This was the night not long to come in the year of our |
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Lord A.DWhere in a desert way-house poised on the brink of eternity |
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Four and ninety studded horsemen closed the knot of honor |
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As only drunken soldiers can |
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And passed from man to man, a wanton child to dead to care |
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That each would find his pleasure as he might |
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For this fantastic night was billed as nothing less than the end of an age |
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A last crusade, a final outrage in this day of flaccid plumage |
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And there was worn no cloth but leather |
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Made supple by years of stinging cinders |
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And here were seen, the scars of age |
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For age had been the common call for one last night together |
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Dawn colored the sky, the ritual ceased |
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Some had died, they were buried with their bikes |
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Each grabbed a rag from a man with a sack |
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Torn strips of color, the red and the black |
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I cam here willingly and |
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I will go down valiantly |
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We made a vow to give it all we had to give |
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We made a vow to die as we had lived |
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They flew the colors, they began to fight |
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They flailed at each other like bugs at a light |
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Bodies and bikes beyond repair |
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The smell of oil and gas in the air |
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Then the wind whipped the desert with a giant hand |
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And the humans and the |
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Harley's caught the shifting sand |
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The old ranger weathered the storm |
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And he topped the rise by the middle of morn |
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He saw rippled dunes, calm and surreal |
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And a glint of a solitary shaft of chromium steel |
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Golden age |
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Golden age |
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Golden age... |
