Raise your can of beer on high and seal your fate forever   Our best years have past us by, the golden age of leather      This was the night not long to come in the year of our Lord A.D   Where in a desert way-house poised on the brink of eternity   Four and ninety studded horsemen closed the knot of honor   As only drunken soldiers can      And passed from man to man, a wanton child to dead to care   That each would find his pleasure as he might   For this fantastic night was billed as nothing less than the end of an age   A last crusade, a final outrage in this day of flaccid plumage      And there was worn no cloth but leather   Made supple by years of stinging cinders   And here were seen, the scars of age   For age had been the common call for one last night together      Dawn colored the sky, the ritual ceased   Some had died, they were buried with their bikes   Each grabbed a rag from a man with a sack   Torn strips of color, the red and the black      I cam here willingly and I will go down valiantly   We made a vow to give it all we had to give   We made a vow to die as we had lived      They flew the colors, they began to fight   They flailed at each other like bugs at a light   Bodies and bikes beyond repair   The smell of oil and gas in the air      Then the wind whipped the desert with a giant hand   And the humans and the Harley's caught the shifting sand   The old ranger weathered the storm   And he topped the rise by the middle of morn   He saw rippled dunes, calm and surreal   And a glint of a solitary shaft of chromium steel      Golden age   Golden age   Golden age   ...