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