Daft Wader

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