Stroker's Theme

Stroker Ace was born to race.

He had a mean streak ten feet wide.

A son of a gun with a taste for fun and

more than his share of pride.

Take a dirt road curve with the devil's

nerve and make a car dance a cross the mud.

Hauling shine was his regular line 'til the

track got in his blood.

Was a real hot shot and he bragged a lot but,

man that fool could drive. 'Cause he loved the

feel of the steering wheel and the girls with the

bed-room eyes. And in a racing tide or a bar

room fight old Stroker stole the show. A back

stretch blazer, a real hell raiser and a race

track Romeo.

Mama lock your daughters up

that wild bunch is back in town

And them little girls get frisky

when they hear that racecar sound

They're bringin out the yellow flag,

somebody's brakes have failed

There's an oilslick on the inside

and a wreck along the rail

You better stand on it, Stroker,

cause a bandit's on your tail.

It's a downright joy for a country boy

When he hears them engines moan

But you gotta hang tough and it gets real rough

When you're out there on your own

Cause they'll push you around, they'll knock you down

They'll shove ya up against the wall

And you always know when an engine blows

That a man can't win 'em all

You could push that car

just a little too far any Sunday afternoon

And if you break your neck

in some d---- fool's wreck they'd forget about you soon

But old Stroker Ace was born to race

and it's worth all the trying

Just to drink champagne in the Victory Lane

and to hear that concrete whine

Stroker get your dander up

this ain't no time to lag

You've got to make a lap up

if you want to take that checkered flag

Number ten is closin' in to even up the score

It's time to wave bye-bye and put the pedal on the floor

You better stand on it Stroker

cause you're blowin' off their doors.

Blow their doors off, Stroker. Stand on it, Son. Ah, you good lookin' devil, you.