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(da-da-da, ooh)
Pedal-spin past the green garden walls
Under the kites and the climbing vines
Every blue door has a story to tell
Under the golden light lines
Oh, the hills are rising high (higher now!) We can almost touch
the sky
Wind in our hair,
rolling along
Two wheels, one sun,
singing our song
Out in the open,
fields of gold Everything bright as we unfold (together now!)
Spinning past mailboxes painted in red
Over the cracks in the old concrete
Saying hello to a puppy we pass
Every turn is a brand new street
Wind in our hair,
rolling along
Two wheels, one sun,
singing our song
Out in the open,
fields of gold
Everything bright as we unfold (ooh-ooh-ooh!)
(da-da-da-da, yeah!)