Farewell martyr, whipping flame We will put up our red flags and cry In bright coloured plastic chairs Beneath the towers catching the higher airs Then light up bonfires for you
Oh, cross-dressers Cross-dressers of these terrible roads Your love is great And the nasalar in his beaten-up old car Is taking the particles back home again
Soon you'll be dancing Where the made-up gods have set their clocks on you And the rockets we let off Arе hidden now beneath thе snow
