( P. Mathews, Quonochontaug Music BMI )

My leather jacket’s a bygone, ragged remnant
Hanging by a hole that saved my past
My boots lie in the corner crumblin’old and broken
My wild riding days have seen their last

But then Willy rides ‘round
With that thundering sound and we split town
I race under the stars in his sidecar horizon bound
I’m leaving my cares moving out to where
That old magic is found

Bikers never lose their engines
Even when they’re too old to ride
There’ll always be that sense of adventure
In a man who likes the wind at his side
Bikers lead a quest for freedom
To breakout into spaces open wide
They blaze a trail where you’ll find no fences
Bikers never lose their engines

My scrapbook’s tattered pages hold my memories
Of women, wine and wars now long gone
My mind drifts from that chair beside the window
And wanders on those back roads far beyond

(repeat pre-chorus)
( repeat chorus)

Copyright © 1999 Quonochontaug Music