Blue Öyster Cult Golden Age of Leather

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 Smell of oil and gas in the air Then the wind whipped the desert with a giant hand And the humans and the Harleys 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...