At first I saw them In the bright morning light A milestone on their shoulders A horse at their side A horse they came over From the land of human rights
At the corner they were waiting For a winner of their size But the managers were taking over The profession of disguise
And they went into a rainbow And they lived there for many years 'Til one day they tried to go But burning was their gear
Are you waiting for the take-off Are you waiting for the show No winner will be coming You really should know
Neo-Nazi doom advisors sticking in the mud While Hindustanian horses refuse a haircut Windswept children running wild on the land Lonely tele-typers ticking in Tschaikowsky's tent Pig-pink-coloured ministers are ready to drop They cut down all the flowers on their way to the top While frogmen encircle the Zig-Zag Cinema And salvation's sisters enter the Turkish Opera
Are you waiting for the take-off Are you waiting for the show No winner will be coming You really should know
Pudding-face publicity promoters call For a sign on the invisible wall While prophets drive past on compressed air And caravans of cameras do not care The boomerang battery bands-man on his sphinx-like bike Is mostly from Saturday to Sunday on strike While formulas go to pieces close to the ground On their way down the hill all the years 'round
Later I saw them In a rusty limousine A guitar on their shoulder To leave the golden mean Where the cleric is a clown And the colours are clean
At the circus they were waiting For a splendid slot machine Which could turn wine into water And reality into a dream