Operation Desert Stumble

[Intro] (Heavy industrial drum beat, marching rhythm, dark suspenseful guitar riff) [Verse 1] The big white tent is packed, the African sun is bright Johannesburg is cheering, the crowd is full of light Jeremy welcomes everyone, the trio takes the stage Ready for another ride, turning a brand new page [Verse 2] The scene shifts to Jordan, the desert heat is high A top-secret training camp beneath a cloudless sky The boys are wearing helmets, tactical vests and gear But looking at their faces, they feel a little fear [Verse 3] A simulated rescue, a VIP to save They jump out of a chopper, trying to look brave But Jeremy is heavy, and Richard falls right down They look like three old amateurs, the biggest clowns in town [Verse 4] They enter the fake town, where mock terrorists reside But every single time they try, there is nowhere to hide The flashbangs are exploding, the blanks are shooting loud This special forces training is not making them proud [Verse 5] The puzzle must be solved, they do it o'er and o'er They die a hundred times or more before they reach the door Jeremy gets stuck window-first, his belly is too wide While Hammond runs around them with a funny sort of pride [Verse 6] Then James gets left behind, forgotten in the smoke He thinks this military life is a terrible bad joke He wanders through the alleyways, looking for a snack While lasers light the darkness and the rifles click-and-clack [Verse 7] Finally they reach the plane, the hostage must come out But Jeremy shoots the VIP, they hear the director shout "Reset the whole damn camera, you got it wrong again!" They have to do the movie in the blinding desert sun [Verse 8] Back at the Eboladrome, the asphalt is so grey A track-only hypercar is coming out to play The Aston Vulcan, a green and roaring beast For every petrolhead tonight, a cinematic feast [Verse 9] Eight hundred horsepower, a V-twelve screaming loud It shoots out flames of orange, making British builders proud It is so loud and brutal, the side-pipes spit out fire The ultimate expression of track-day-only desire [Verse 10] Jeremy is struggling to keep the beast in line The steering wheel is strange, the cockpit's tight design It shakes his ancient bones, it makes his ears just bleed A beautiful monster built for pure and uncut speed [Verse 11] The track is soaking wet, the puddles start to splash The Vulcan spins its tires, avoiding a major crash But on the leader board, when the track finally dried It took the fastest lap time with a massive sense of pride [Verse 12] We travel back to Africa, out on the dusty ground Where a strange new subculture of motors is found It’s called the art of spinning, the tires scream and smoke But doing it with old cars is definitely no joke [Verse 13] James May is sent to watch them, the local drivers spin They jump out of the moving cars and flash a golden grin The engines rev to redline, the rubber starts to burn While crowds are cheering wildly at every single turn [Verse 14] James tries to do the same, in a smoky old sedan He tries to be a spinner, a brave South African man But Captain Slow is cautious, he drives it very neat The slowest piece of spinning ever seen upon the street [Verse 15] The action movie end is near, back in the desert sand They finally escape the camp and leave the simulated land Jeremy is on the car roof, shooting at the sky A ridiculous explosion as the helicopter flies [Verse 16] The tent in Johannesburg is laughing at the show The military training was a comedy, we know Three middle-aged presenters pretending they are fit When everyone can see they don't belong in it [Verse 17] The second week is done, the credits start to roll They survived the desert stumbling and kept their humor whole From Vulcan fire to spinning wheels, the engines roar out loud Grand Tour truck keeps moving, driving away proud [Outro] (Heavy industrial guitar solo, loud military drums, sound of an explosion and fading guitar hiss)