It hurts to give up the racing life,
It hurts to make the break.
And it hurts to watch the youngsters drive,
For you notice each mistake.
And you yearn to take the wheel again
To show how it should be done-
And ghosts from the past will beckon you,
And bid you, "Come back and run."
It hurts to quit for the call of the pit
Is always deep inside,
And you would give the life you live
To take one final ride.
And final ride though it may be
you’d gladly take the risk
for the thrill of the wind-pressed goggles
and the feel of the wheel in your fist.