The air is thick with that wonderful smell
If only you could bottle it, I'm sure it would sell,
You hurry to the track shop and then to the pits
Squeezing to the front, in the corner your hero sits

A nod of acknowledgement, a smile and a wave
You wander of to your stance, on the crest of a wave
The music starts up; it's time for the parade walk
The terraces are busy with lots of speedway talk

Introductions are over, gladiators mount their machines
Riders are surrounded by men from their teams
A final adjustment to clutch and throttle cable
2 minute warning is on to the tapes willing and able

Start Marshall barks out orders and gets them in line
The roar of those engines sure sounds mighty fine
When the Referee is satisfied on goes the green light
Tapes shoot up and 4 gladiators race of in the night

They battle for position they duck and they dive
The adrenalin starts flowing and on it they thrive
We scream and we shout and we jump up and down
Your hero crosses the finishing line and you go to town

Another fourteen heats of these titanic fights
Must take place before they put out the flood lights
Its rounds to the pits at a bit of a canter
To catch up on all the latest speedway banter

Bikes and equipment are loaded away for the night
Is there really on earth a more wonderful sight
You say your good byes as it is time to go
And wander in to the night with the Ready Brek Glow !