Speedway Heartbreak
From the gravel lots of Kerpen to the Monza afternoon
He drove like thunder chasing down the silver harvest moon
A red machine in the pouring rain,
carving out the line Finding seconds where the bravest men were running
out of time
Raise a glass to the red baron flying on the track
Leaving all the rivals staring at his back
Seven crowns of glory written in the asphalt dust A quiet iron
will that you could never rust
(ooh yeah)
Spa-Francorchamps through the blinding fog,
Eau Rouge without a flinch
He’d trade the paint with anyone and never give an inch
They called him cold as winter frost,
but on that winner's stand
He jumped for joy like a little boy across that promised land
Raise a glass to the red baron flying on the track
Leaving all the rivals staring at his back
Seven crowns of glory written in the asphalt dust A quiet iron
will that you could never rust (never rust)
Now the Alpine snow is peaceful,
and the world is holding hands Still praying for the champion across
the western lands A fighter doesn't surrender,
no, he holds
the wheels so tight
Raise a glass to the red baron flying on the track
Leaving all the rivals staring at his back
Seven crowns of glory written in the asphalt dust A quiet iron
will that you could never rust (forever keep fighting,
yeah)
Keep fighting, Michael...