Текст (слова) песни: Jethro Tull - The Chequered Flag (Dead Or Alive)
The disc brakes drag, the chequered flag sweeps across the oil-slick track. The young man`s home; dry as a bone. His helmet off, he waves: the crowd waves back. One lap victory roll. Gladiator soul. The taker of the day in winning has to say, Isn`t it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive.
The sunlight streaks through the curtain cracks, touches the old man where he sleeps. The nurse brings up a cup of tea --- two biscuits and the morning paper mystery. The hard road`s end, the white god`s-send is nearer everyday, in dying the old man says, Isn`t it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive.
The still-born child can`t feel the rain as the chequered flag falls once again. The deaf composer completes his final score. He`ll never hear the sweet encore. The chequered flag, the bull`s red rag, the lemming-hearted hordes running ever faster to the shore singing, Isn`t it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive.
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