A war of sharp edges senses at maximum capacity a gladiator in a rampage of sheet metal and blurred nerves. Reflecting white lines tripping wheels from side to side terror on two wheels of fire broken glass on a barefoot trail. Reflection of chrome pipes against those tinted windows reverbation of straight pipes against this thin-walled steel. Men can pass no law against it like the sun won´t shine no more but our bros will never show down as long as there is a white line. Racing the jagged steel gauntlet with certain death just inches away we love every minute of this thrill - born to ride, ride to live. Rolling the endless highway with cold wind blowing in our hair gotta keep our engines running, welcome baby to the splitting lanes.