Lyrics:

Asphalt burning, clock another round on the motor's head
Four on the floor, smile on the face, lucky me
Well all right
Handle bars, motor card and Jim Beam
Blank streets, stoner bars, a dead scene
Now that the days are growing shorter
Time means more and more to me
Yes, I'm a father to my favorite one
Oh, and it's much too much to believe
Asphalt burning, clock another round on the motor's head
Four on the floor, smile on the face, lucky me
Well all right
Now that the days are growing shorter
Time means more and more to me
Yes, I'm a father to my favorite one
Oh, and it's much too much to believe