Golden Age of Leather

Raise your can of beer on high and seal your fate forever

Our best years have past us by, the golden age of leather

This was the night not long to come in the year of our

Lord A.DWhere in a desert way-house poised on the brink of eternity

Four and ninety studded horsemen closed the knot of honor

As only drunken soldiers can

And passed from man to man, a wanton child to dead to care

That each would find his pleasure as he might

For this fantastic night was billed as nothing less than the end of an age

A last crusade, a final outrage in this day of flaccid plumage

And there was worn no cloth but leather

Made supple by years of stinging cinders

And here were seen, the scars of age

For age had been the common call for one last night together

Dawn colored the sky, the ritual ceased

Some had died, they were buried with their bikes

Each grabbed a rag from a man with a sack

Torn strips of color, the red and the black

I cam here willingly and

I will go down valiantly

We made a vow to give it all we had to give

We made a vow to die as we had lived

They flew the colors, they began to fight

They flailed at each other like bugs at a light

Bodies and bikes beyond repair

The smell of oil and gas in the air

Then the wind whipped the desert with a giant hand

And the humans and the

Harley's caught the shifting sand

The old ranger weathered the storm

And he topped the rise by the middle of morn

He saw rippled dunes, calm and surreal

And a glint of a solitary shaft of chromium steel

Golden age

Golden age

Golden age...