Wine-red blood streaks across the sky

As another long day lays down to die

The evening is cool, not too cold

An eerie feeling begins to take hold

A black leather clad fever dream

Riding this lightning suicide-machine

Built from black metal and sleek chrome

Many ghosts follow, but I ride alone

So many thoughts, memories, dreams

Out here they’re nothing, they fall through the seams

I can out-run them, if I try

So I ride so fast I’m starting to fly

Into that streak of blood red sky

A hint of blue as the sky starts to cry

I ride toward that blood red death

With anticipation and bated breath

Red taillights glare hot ahead

Like lanterns dragged by the souls of the dead

My snarling beast glints black as night

Chrome shining silver like early moonlight

The lights of town flicker ahead

They chase off the dreams and clear my head

Yes the warm streetlights have their say

And they remind me of the coming day

So I get home, take off my boots

Sit down inside as my soul slowly droops

And sit and dream of the next time

I can race the sun to die in the sky