[Verse 1] She walked into the bike shop looking for something fast. Tattooed arms behind the counter, tyres hanging off the racks. “This one rolls quite quickly, still gives plenty grip.” She wants less grip. Less grip. More speed? More speed. [Hook] Less grip, grip, grip. More speed, speed, speed. Take a little off. Give a little more. Less grip, grip, grip. More speed, speed, speed. Less hold. More roll. That’s what she came here for. [Verse 2] Lighter casing. Lower tread. Something quicker this time. Hard through the centre, lean through the shoulders, built to run the line. Still a little generous where the rubber meets the dirt. Another look. Not enough. [Spoken] “Less again?” “Less again.” “How fast?” “Faster.” [Hook — Faster] Less grip, grip, grip. More speed, speed, speed. Take a little off. Give a little more. Less grip, grip, grip. More speed, speed, speed. Less hold. More roll. More. More. More. [Bridge] Third set. Less tread. Fourth set. Less tyre. Fifth set turned slowly in his hands. [Spoken] “These are practically blades.” ... “Perfect.” [Final Build] Less grip, grip, grip. More speed, speed, speed. Less grip, grip, grip. More speed, speed, speed. Less tread. Less drag. More speed, speed, speed. No grip. All speed. No drag. No sound. Two black blades running clean. Faster. Faster. Faster. The trail beneath her thin as a line. No grip. All speed. And still faster.
