We used to be rockers back in fifty-nine
That was the high point for our gang of five
Everyone's gone 'cept for me alone
But way back when, we were very much alive
We lived for the thrill of the road ahead
And oh we had our moments when our blood ran red


Speed was the drug and petrol the fuel

Death rode pillion and life could be cruel

But whenever the open highway beckoned

The bikes came first, and the birds came second

Clip-ons, rear sets and barking megaphones

Polished aluminium, metal flake and chrome

Five star, Redex and smoking pheremones

Anything might happen when the boys were in the zone

Oh what a high-speed life we led

And how we had some moments when our blood ran red



We never did the Ace (it was way off our beat)
Our turf was Rayleigh down to Shoeburyness
Lenny was the fastest and the first to go
We buried him in leather and we prayed "God bless"
"Is me bike okay?" was the last thing he said
"Just scratches", we told 'im while his blood ran red

Jacko went next, June 1961
Got dumped by his bird, and we feared the worst
Late that night on Eastwood Old Road
He said "See you in hell, boys" and got their first
He gunned his Goldie, hit a wall, crashed through it
Fist in the air, and we saw he meant to do it
"Silly, silly boys" is what the coppers said
But you do what you do when your blood runs red

Ronnie rode an Enfield and was built like a gun
Had a face like Eddie but was any mother's son
He was either standing still, or headed for the ton
Loyal to his mates, and sworn to fun
One day racing on Marine Parade
His bike hit some diesel and everybody prayed
But Ronnie was a legend and never lost his ride
Had the devil in his nature, but God was on his side
Young men rush in where angels fear to tread
And how we loved those moments when our blood ran red

On the Margate run once we came across some mods
Three Lambrettas motoring ahead

Slick suits, hair cuts, cocky looking sods

Sid crept up on his Norton Featherbed

Moddy boy panicked and he went into a spin

Slid down the road but no one lost their skin
Later on the beach their mates came running
We got a good kicking and away they strode
We all agreed that we had what was coming
It's the price you pay for fun on the road
Then wailed the coppers and away we sped
And oh what a laugh when our blood ran red


Fists from our dads and tears from our mothers

We were the original leather band of brothers

Nobody's enemy and nobody's friend

(and never quite as bad as we liked to pretend)

Eddie got it wrong, there are two ways to heaven

It's the A13 or the A127

But that's all over and those days are done
The eyes are dim and the knees are gone

The blood's got thin and there's not a drop for spilling

And although the flesh is weak, the spirit is still willing
Still got my bike, mind, but rarely get to ride it
Sits in the shed with me leather hung beside it

It's not just the closing of the day that I dread

But the loss of those moments when our blood ran red




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