REDLINE TO HELL
by RECTIFIED BINDER
[Intro — engine cranking, feedback screaming]
Rrrrrr—RRRRRR—VROOOOOM!
DRIVER:
CHECK ENGINE LIGHT?!
BAND:
IGNORE IT!!!
[Verse 1]
Six-point-two liters and a tank full of spite,
Bought it on Craigslist in the dead of night.
Previous owner said, “It runs real clean,”
There’s three quarts of oil where the driveway’s been.
Headers glowing like the gates of Hell,
Transmission’s making that expensive smell.
Mechanic said, “Son, you better shut her down—”
I CAN’T HEAR YOU!
THE EXHAUST’S TOO LOUD!
[Pre-Chorus]
Oil pressure falling!
Temperature climbs!
Warranty expired
THREE MILES AGO THIS TIME!
[Chorus]
RECTIFIED BINDER!
Torque it down tighter!
RECTIFIED BINDER!
Set the tires on fire!
Eight thousand RPM,
Pistons begging for their lives—
WE DON’T NEED RELIABILITY
IF THE CAR SURVIVES!
RECTIFIED!
BINDER!
BRAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!
[Verse 2]
Got a cold-air intake from a questionable site,
Twenty-seven horsepower—it said so, so it’s right.
Big-ass wing and a carbon hood,
Does it make it faster?
IT LOOKS LIKE IT SHOULD!
Then an XC60 rolls silently by,
Swedish leather, Thor’s Hammer lights.
Driver looks over, calm as can be—
HEATED SEATS?!
THAT AIN’T METAL TO ME!
But the Volvo launches, smooth and quick—
WAIT…
THAT THING’S ACTUALLY SICK.
[Breakdown]
DROP!
First gear!
CLUNK!
Second gear!
GRIND!
Third gear!
WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!
silence
…Was that the transmission?
drummer clicks sticks
YEP.
[VOLVO BREAKDOWN]
THOR!
HAMMER!
THOR!
HAMMER!
SWEDISH ENGINEERING!
THOR!
HAMMER!
THOR!
HAMMER!
WHY IS THE VOLVO PASSING ME?!
[MASSIVE BREAKDOWN]
HEAD!
GASKET!
HEAD!
GASKET!
COOLANT IN THE OIL!
HEAD!
GASKET!
HEAD!
GASKET!
NOW WE’RE FUCKING BOILED!
[Guitar Solo]
WEEEE-NEEE-NEEE-NEEE-NEEE—
VROOOOOOM!
SKRRRRRRRRT!
[sound of socket wrench hitting garage floor]
“WHO TOOK THE 10 MILLIMETER?!”
[distant Volvo door closes with an extremely satisfying THUNK]
silence
“Damn… that was a nice thunk.”
[Bridge — ominous clean guitar]
Black XC60 at the traffic light,
Quiet little bastard in the dead of night.
Leather seats.
Panoramic roof.
Driver sips coffee…
WITH NOTHING TO PROVE.
Our engine’s shaking,
Our brakes are fried—
The Volvo driver whispers:
“You boys need a ride?”
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
[Final Chorus]
RECTIFIED BINDER!
Born beneath the hood!
RECTIFIED BINDER!
Making bad ideas sound good!
No traction control!
No catalytic converter!
If something starts knocking—
JUST TURN THE MUSIC LOUDER!
RECTIFIED BINDER!
Gasoline!
Horsepower!
Questionable decisions!
RECTIFIED BINDER!
REDLINE!
REDLINE!
REDLIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!
[Outro — engine revs violently]
VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM—
BANG!
silence
Singer:
“…That sounded expensive.”
[XC60 pulls up]
Volvo Driver:
“Need a tow?”
Singer:
“…Is that the Bowers & Wilkins system?”
Volvo Driver:
“Yep.”
long pause
Singer:
“…I call shotgun.”
Guitarist:
“SELL-OUT!”
Volvo stereo erupts into the final riff