A presence of disease This place, this race A constant wearing down To weaken and destroy As lap after lap The riders give in To the slippery road Where they lose all control In a matter of moments There will be no more dreams At night Contributes to this risk The speed, the greed The driver's skill, the will To collide Then to hide Unseen they sleep out Disappear, but they're near As they wander around Not so safe, not so sound In a minefield of memories The place in between Wrong and right It begins It crawls It deserves It happens In a corner Of a notebook In a public house In solitude In a mournful praise In parting In a matter of moments There will be no more dreams At night In a minefield of memories The place in between Wrong and right