The Chequered Flag (Brussels Studio Recording, November, 1975) - Jethro Tull

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 his 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