The Chequered Flag (Dead Or Alive) Songtext / Lyric

The disc brake drag, the chequered flad sweeps across the oilslick track.
The young man`s home; dug 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 bring a cup of tea-two biscuits and the morning paper mystery- The hard roads end, the white god`s send is nearer every day, in dying the old man says isn`t it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive.
The still-borned child can`t feel the rain as the chequered flag falls once again.
The deaf composer completes his final score. He`ll never hear his sweet encore. The chequered flag, the bull`s red drag the lemming-hearted herdes running are faster to the shor singing. Isn`t it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive.