The mountain calls.

Pedal spins, the mountain calls, Through ancient trails where sunlight falls. The earth’s alive, it hums my name, A spark of freedom, a wild flame. The pines are whispering, secrets old, Their stories carved in green and gold. My heart’s in rhythm with the ground, Each turn of wheel, a sacred sound. The wind it screams, it sets me free, A dance of soul, eternity. Eagles soar where skies unfold, Their wings of fire, their hearts of gold. Feel the wind upon my face, Rushing through this boundless space. Mountains rise, the heavens sing, I’m alive, I’m everything! Oh, the wild, it calls my soul, Bicycle and breeze, I’m whole. Freedom’s pulse, it carries me, In the wild, I’m meant to be. The river laughs, it weaves and flows, Through rocky veins where moss still grows. My tires hum on paths of stone, The mountain’s heart beats with my own. Above, the eagles carve the sky, Their piercing cries, a battle cry. I chase their shadows, swift and bold, A fleeting spark in tales untold. Feel the wind upon my face, Rushing through this boundless space. Mountains rise, the heavens sing, I’m alive, I’m everything! Oh, the wild, it calls my soul, Bicycle and breeze, I’m whole. Freedom’s pulse, it carries me, In the wild, I’m meant to be. Pedal on, through endless skies, Where eagles dance and spirits rise. The mountain’s mine, the wind’s my guide, Forever free, on this ride. The mountain calls.