Just like the rain the wind touches my face.
Dreams long past and soon forgotten are memories revealed.
Is it the age that has made me forget the race?
Is it never to be that dream from the past that;
I have sealed?
Against the wind, running against the wind.
Riding against the wind.
Bob Segar against the wind.
No it was different.
You have got to change your evil ways.
Thatís right, Santana.
But thatís Ok,..
I guess I left that part out.