Motorhead

He rides a road, that don't have no end,
An open highway, that don't have no bends,
Tramp and his stallion, alone in a dream,
Proud in his colours, as the chromium gleams,
On Iron Horse he flies, on Iron Horse he gladly dies,
Iron Horse his wife, Iron Horse his life
He rides the roads, he lives his life fast
Don't try to hide, when the dice have been cast,
He rides a whirlwind, that cuts to the bone,
Wasted forever, and ferociously stoned,
On Iron Horse he flies, on Iron Horse he gladly dies,