Скачать или смотреть JensT - Racing the Dream (Progressive Darkwave Metal Version)

The engine note was different that morning
Rolling slow through Imola’s lane
Sound like a violin pulled too tight
Whispering ghosts he wouldn’t name
Every weekend had its shadows
Little signs you learn to ignore
He’d made a pact with fear long ago
Don’t chase the omen, chase the core

The weekend already took its measure
Left empty chairs in the rain
Roland’s name hung in the silence
Rubens danced with death and came back changed
The paddock felt like a broken cathedral
Helmets bowed, no prayers aloud
In the cockpit, a folded flag
A quiet promise, a vow

When the lights went out, the world went still
Instinct took the wheel, heart over steel
Man and machine in a sacred fight
Courage and control in perfect time
He never ran, he never hid
He met the truth for what it is
At the edge of speed and soul
Ayrton Senna let it roll

Racing wasn’t just the seconds falling
It was a language, sharp and clean
Every corner like a confession
Every line a faith unseen
But the car felt tense, unsettled
Like it knew what lay ahead
Still lap by lap he pressed the limit
Eyes on the line, no words unsaid

When the lights went out, the world went still
Instinct took the wheel, heart over steel
Man and machine in a sacred fight
Courage and control in perfect time
He never ran, he never hid
He met the truth for what it is
At the edge of speed and soul
Ayrton Senna let it roll

Tamburello came like a narrowing dream
Concrete walls, a blur of light
One stretched breath between the moments
Thought, acceptance, then the night
Then silence cut through the thunder
A sound louder than the roar
And the race went on without him
But it wasn’t the same anymore

Mechanics froze, the crowd was crying
In every tongue, the same goodbye
The sport lost its reflection
Of beauty, cost, and why we try
They say legends never die
But they don’t stay the same
They turn into reasons, into warnings
Into fire without a flame

Now safety stands where courage stood
Because one man said it should
He’s the rain on Monaco streets
A yellow flash in memory
Greatness isn’t wins or fame
It’s how you love the burning game
Beyond the noise, beyond all time
Ayrton Senna’s still on the line

Still racing where the edge is thin
Teaching us why we begin
Not to outrun what waits ahead
But to feel alive—
Before the silence instead.