| Reluctantly crouched at the starting line
|
| Engines pumping and thumping in time
|
| The green light flashes, the flags go up
|
| Churning and burning, they yearn for the cup
|
| They deftly maneuver and muscle for rank
|
| Fuel burning fast on an empty tank
|
| Reckless and wild, they pour through the turns
|
| Their prowess is potent and secretly stern
|
| As they speed through the finish, the flags go down
|
| The fans get up and they get out of town
|
| The arena is empty except for one man
|
| Still driving and striving as fast as he can
|
| The sun has gone down and the moon has come up
|
| And long ago somebody left with the cup
|
| But he’s driving and striving and hugging the turns
|
| And thinking of someone for whom he still burns
|
| He’s going the distance
|
| He’s going for speed
|
| She’s all alone
|
| In her time of need
|
| Because he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course
|
| He’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse
|
| He’s going the distance
|
| No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
|
| He’s haunted by something he cannot define
|
| Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
|
| Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force
|
| In his mind, he’s still driving, still making the grade
|
| She’s hoping in time that her memories will fade
|
| Cause he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course
|
| He’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse
|
| The sun has gone down and the moon has come up
|
| And long ago somebody left with the cup
|
| But he’s striving and driving and hugging the turns
|
| And thinking of someone for whom he still burns
|
| Cause he’s going the distance
|
| He’s going for speed
|
| She’s all alone
|
| In her time of need
|
| Because he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course
|
| He’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse
|
| He’s racing and pacing and plotting the course
|
| He’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse
|
| He’s going the distance
|
| He’s going for speed
|
| He’s going the distance |