[Intro] Wheels on gravel, wind in my face, Europe unfolds at a cycling pace. Sax in the air, bass down low, My bicycle writes the map I know. [Verse 1] From the Southern Black Forest I drifted up north, From Atlantic coasts to the east I went forth. Kind faces waited at every border line, Open roads, open hearts, no fear, no sign. [Pre-Chorus] Mediterranean sun, North Sea spray, Baltic dawn and the Arctic day. Mountains rising like cymbal hits, While my low bass rumbles and fits. [Chorus] Through Norway’s peaks and the Alpine pass, Over Pyrenees and Balkan grass. Spain, France, Italy, Austria, Swiss, Sweden, Finland—every mile a kiss. Denmark, Germany, Estonia’s shore, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, and more. Holland, Belgium, Portugal’s light, Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro in sight. Albania, Greece—my wheels never rest, Europe lives in my traveling chest. [Verse 2] I slept in small towns and harbor lights, Shared bread and stories on long, soft nights. Saxophones calling from distant bars, Under the same wide, borderless stars. [Pre-Chorus] Fjords in the north, olive trees in the south, Every language smiled from every mouth. One continent, many songs to sing— My bicycle made them all one thing. [Chorus] Through Norway’s peaks and the Alpine pass, Over Pyrenees and Balkan grass. Spain, France, Italy, Austria, Swiss, Sweden, Finland—every mile a kiss. Denmark, Germany, Estonia’s shore, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, and more. Holland, Belgium, Portugal’s light, Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro in sight. Albania, Greece—my wheels never rest, Europe lives in my traveling chest. [Bridge] Steel and stone may divide the land, But human hands understand human hands. One road, one rhythm, one steady beat— Two wheels writing a map complete. Sax takes a solo, the bass walks on, The night turns blue, then into dawn. [Sax Solo] [Chorus – final, softer] Through Norway’s peaks and the Alpine pass, Over Pyrenees and Balkan grass. Spain, France, Italy, Austria, Swiss, Sweden, Finland—every mile a kiss. Denmark, Germany, Estonia’s shore, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, and more. Holland, Belgium, Portugal’s light, Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro in sight. Albania, Greece—my wheels never rest, Europe lives in my traveling chest. [Outro] Wheels on gravel, wind in my face, Europe unfolds at a cycling pace. Sax fades out with a whispered tone, While my deep bass rolls me home.
