[Intro] Wheels on the edge of the Atlantic foam, Salt in the air, I’m rolling west of home. [Verse 1] From the Irish Atlantic coast, where the cliffs throw shadows down, Through green backroads and boreens, past a quiet fishing town. The wind writes lines across my jacket, rain like silver threads, Every hill a new horizon, every mile a story said. [Chorus] I ride the spine of Europe, from the ocean to the plain, Through valleys, ports and border posts, through sunshine and through rain. One long line on two thin wheels, a thread across the map, From the western wild Atlantic to the eastern border gap. [Verse 2] Over to Wales in ferry light, the harbor bells ring low, Then England’s hedgerow highways where the slow lanes gently flow. Market squares and cathedral spires, old stones beneath the sky, Each town a different rhythm as the rear wheel spins its rhyme. [Chorus] I ride the spine of Europe, from the ocean to the plain, Through valleys, ports and border posts, through sunshine and through rain. One long line on two thin wheels, a thread across the map, From the western wild Atlantic to the eastern border gap. [Bridge] Holland’s flat and endless, where the dykes hold back the sea, Germany’s forest byways, where the pines whisper quietly. Rivers turn like old friends, bridges hum beneath my feet, Every kilometer a memory I carry in the beat. [Verse 3] Poland opens wide and golden, fields that stretch and glow, Small stations, wooden platforms, where the evening trains run slow. I follow east until the tarmac thins, the signs grow fewer, sparse, Right up to the Belarus border, where the old continent ends its arc. [Sax Solo] (instrumental – tenor saxophone solo over deep upright bass and light brushes) [Final Chorus] I rode the spine of Europe, from the ocean to the plain, Through valleys, ports and border posts, through sunshine and through rain. One long line on two thin wheels, a thread across the map, From the western wild Atlantic to the eastern border gap. [Outro] When the map runs out at the border, and the road begins to fade, I hear the sax keep rolling on, through every mile we made.
