His eyes are cold and restless
His wounds have almost healed
And she's given half her fortune
To buy him those new wheels
She knows his love's in Millville
And she knows he's gonna go
Well it ain't no woman flesh and blood
It's that damned old motocross
Well it's bikes and blood
It's dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday race
It's a whip in the air
A start in second gear
He'll take the next hole shot
It's the drop of the gate
It's roost on his plate
It's jumps and nasty whoops
It's in the sun or rain
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing motocross
She does her best to hold him
When his love comes to call
But his need for it controls him
And her backs against the wall
And it's so long girl I'll see you
When it's time for the next race
You know the woman wants him
Like he wants to take first place
Well it's bikes and blood
It's dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday race
It's a whip in the air
A start in second gear
He'll take the next hole shot
It's the drop of the gate
It's roost on his plate
It's jumps and nasty whoops
It's in the sun or rain
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing motocross
It'll drive a rider crazy
It'll drive him more insane
And he'll sell off everything he owns
Just to pay for that next race
And a broken home and some broken bones
Is all he'll have to show
For all the years that he spent chasin
This dream they call motocross
Well it's bikes and blood
It's dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday race
It's a whip in the air
A start in second gear
He'll take the next hole shot
It's the drop of the gate
It's roost on his plate
It's jumps and nasty whoops
It's in the sun or rain
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing motocross
It's the bikes and the blood
It's the gear and the mud
And they call the thing motocross
This was the first ever Reader-Submitted Lyric. I'll take her word for
it that the lyrics match up as Garth Brooks isn't part of the eclectic set of
music that I listen to.