The Beach Buggy Boys (Part 1) (The Grand Tour S01E07)

Staffan JJK Winterdahl blåljus i samverkan

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[Intro]
(Fast 1960s surf rock guitar riff, energetic drums rolling, retro bass bouncing)

[Verse 1]
No white studio tent is standing tonight
Just the Atlantic Ocean and a blinding white light
On the Skeleton Coast where the shipwrecks lie dead
Three old friends are starting an adventure instead

[Verse 2]
The boss sent a letter with a crazy demand
To prove that beach buggies can conquer the sand
Old Volkswagen chassis with a fiberglass shell
Built for California, but heading for hell

[Verse 3]
Jeremy arrives in a metallic red dream
With a big V8 engine that makes the beach scream
A customized monster that is heavy and wide
Ready to take on the African tide

[Verse 4]
And Richard has chosen a classic design
A sparkly purple buggy that looks very fine
With high-riser exhaust pipes and chrome shiny wheels
He’s feeling the retro surf-rock-and-roll feels

[Verse 5]
But James is traditional, a purist at heart
His buggy is turquoise right from the start
A standard flat-four engine, no modifications in view
Exactly like the sixties intended to do

[Verse 6]
They start on the shoreline where the big waves crash down
Hundreds of miles from the nearest small town
The sand is so soft and the tide is so high
They must move very fast or their buggies will die

[Verse 7]
The V8 of Clarkson is roaring out loud
But the weight of the engine is making him proud
Until he gets stuck in the wet coastal clay
And the ocean is wash-washing his traction away

[Verse 8]
They push and they pull under the burning hot sun
The adventure has started, but it isn't much fun
The purple and turquoise buggies drive past
Leaving the big red monster stuck fast

[Verse 9]
They escape the wet beach and they head for the hills
Where the desert is huge and the silence just kills
The Namibian sands are the tallest on earth
It’s time for the fiberglass cars to show worth

[Verse 10]
The dunes are like mountains of yellow and red
A roller-coaster of heat and of dread
Hammond is flying, his buggy is light
He rides up the crests with a look of delight

[Verse 11]
But Captain Slow is struggling to climb up the track
His standard old engine is holding him back
The flat-four is screaming, the oil temperature rises
The desert is full of mechanical surprises

[Verse 12]
Jeremy’s V8 is overheating as well
The cockpit is burning, a mechanical hell
He has to remove the engine cover with force
To cool down the radiator of his metal horse

[Verse 13]
The sunset is coming, painting the sky
In colors of purple and gold up on high
They pitch a small camp in the middle of nowhere
With the wind blowing dust through their messy grey hair

[Verse 14]
They drink a cold beer under a million bright stars
Discussing the flaws of their lightweight old cars
But the peace doesn't last when the morning breaks in
The hardest part of the tour is about to begin

[Verse 15]
The terrain is changing from sand into stone
A brutal rock desert where they are all alone
The suspension is banging, the fiberglass cracks
As they search for the lost and invisible tracks

[Verse 16]
They are heading for the capital, Windhoek is the name
But the African wilderness is not a small game
Bridges are broken and the canyons are deep
The slopes are too rocky and way too damn steep

[Verse 17]
The first part is ending, the cliffhanger is near
Three broken buggies filled with dust and with fear
Can they survive to the end of the run?
The Namibian saga has only begun

[Outro]
(Surf rock guitar solo slows down into a heavy, dusty desert blues riff, dramatic drum hit, fading out with wind)

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[Intro] (Fast 1960s surf rock guitar riff, energetic drums rolling, retro bass bouncing) [Verse 1] No white studio tent is standing tonight Just the Atlantic Ocean and a blinding white light On the Skeleton Coast where the shipwrecks lie dead Three old friends are starting an adventure instead [Verse 2] The boss sent a letter with a crazy demand To prove that beach buggies can conquer the sand Old Volkswagen chassis with a fiberglass shell Built for California, but heading for hell [Verse 3] Jeremy arrives in a metallic red dream With a big V8 engine that makes the beach scream A customized monster that is heavy and wide Ready to take on the African tide [Verse 4] And Richard has chosen a classic design A sparkly purple buggy that looks very fine With high-riser exhaust pipes and chrome shiny wheels He’s feeling the retro surf-rock-and-roll feels [Verse 5] But James is traditional, a purist at heart His buggy is turquoise right from the start A standard flat-four engine, no modifications in view Exactly like the sixties intended to do [Verse 6] They start on the shoreline where the big waves crash down Hundreds of miles from the nearest small town The sand is so soft and the tide is so high They must move very fast or their buggies will die [Verse 7] The V8 of Clarkson is roaring out loud But the weight of the engine is making him proud Until he gets stuck in the wet coastal clay And the ocean is wash-washing his traction away [Verse 8] They push and they pull under the burning hot sun The adventure has started, but it isn't much fun The purple and turquoise buggies drive past Leaving the big red monster stuck fast [Verse 9] They escape the wet beach and they head for the hills Where the desert is huge and the silence just kills The Namibian sands are the tallest on earth It’s time for the fiberglass cars to show worth [Verse 10] The dunes are like mountains of yellow and red A roller-coaster of heat and of dread Hammond is flying, his buggy is light He rides up the crests with a look of delight [Verse 11] But Captain Slow is struggling to climb up the track His standard old engine is holding him back The flat-four is screaming, the oil temperature rises The desert is full of mechanical surprises [Verse 12] Jeremy’s V8 is overheating as well The cockpit is burning, a mechanical hell He has to remove the engine cover with force To cool down the radiator of his metal horse [Verse 13] The sunset is coming, painting the sky In colors of purple and gold up on high They pitch a small camp in the middle of nowhere With the wind blowing dust through their messy grey hair [Verse 14] They drink a cold beer under a million bright stars Discussing the flaws of their lightweight old cars But the peace doesn't last when the morning breaks in The hardest part of the tour is about to begin [Verse 15] The terrain is changing from sand into stone A brutal rock desert where they are all alone The suspension is banging, the fiberglass cracks As they search for the lost and invisible tracks [Verse 16] They are heading for the capital, Windhoek is the name But the African wilderness is not a small game Bridges are broken and the canyons are deep The slopes are too rocky and way too damn steep [Verse 17] The first part is ending, the cliffhanger is near Three broken buggies filled with dust and with fear Can they survive to the end of the run? The Namibian saga has only begun [Outro] (Surf rock guitar solo slows down into a heavy, dusty desert blues riff, dramatic drum hit, fading out with wind)

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