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 (Soon you will be dancing)
Where the made-up gods have set their clocks on you
And the rockets we let off
Are hidden now beneath the snow
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