| Times, I’ve got to be free
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| When life’s too much for me
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| On my motor cycle
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| I get away from people
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| Off to the sandstone sea
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| 'Cross the desert highway I will ride
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| Up to the heights, just me and my bike we will glide
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| So high, so free, just us, seems my bike’s riding me
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| I’m a fonda-less hopper
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| Just me and my chopper
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| On the desert sand strip
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| Nearly break the hand grip
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| No, nothing can stop her
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| Heading for the mountains eagle-like
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| Up in the heights, I’m flying away on my bike
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| So high, so free, just us, seems my bike’s riding me
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| Whenever I can’t get satisfaction
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| If ever I can’t get any action
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| Anytime I really want to let rip
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| Take main street like it was a drag strip
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| Turning on, burning up the freeway
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| Treating it just like a speedway
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| Don’t care where, I’m a real easy rider
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| Anywhere, as free as a glider
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| Yeah, better than Charlie
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| I get off, off on my Harley, yeah
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| Like a hunting condor
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| See, she will swoop and soar
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| Racing down the mountains
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| Shooting up like fountains
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| Hear, hear her scream and roar
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| Flying round the mountains eagle-like
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| Up in the heights, I’m flying away on my bike
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| So high, so free, just us, seems my bike’s riding me |