We ride the roads where the wild winds call,
Chasing horizons, we follow into the unknown.
No map, no plan, just the road ahead,
Where the pedal turns, our spirits are led.

Through mountain peaks and valleys deep,
Across wide plains where the rivers sleep,
On paths unknown, we find our way,
With every dawn and fading day.

The world spins round, but we stay free,
Nomads on wheels, where we’re meant to be.
The road hums a song we know,
A rhythm we follow, wherever we go.

In the rain or the sun, through dust or snow,
We ride as one, where the wild winds blow.
No need for a map, no need for a plan,
We follow the road, wherever it spans.

From city lights to desert sands,
We leave no trace, no footprints, no hands.
Just the echo of tires and hearts that roam,
Cycling nomads, the world is our home.