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Viva Kalman!

With a spotted moon begins the evening
Bald porter lights the candles
The circus is powdering up their noses in anticipation of meeting
with a hungry crowd
And within a split-second in the scarlet arena
Appears a world that offers solace to those inside
White maniac will tiredly shake
his broken head
 
White clown, white martyr
For a few laughs, drunk and fiery
he will make fun of himself
 
In the evening there is something here that he cares about
After all, humiliation is his line of work
But the last one to laugh will be our
invisible hero
But when midnight will darken the colors
This former Pierrot will change his mask
The new one who laughed at him
Will turn into pus
That's why the clown remembers these faces
During the evening a joker and now a murderer
In a stuffy tavern, he will vent his anger
on the drunken horde
 
In a pub with a screeching violin
Behind a table sticky from filth
He will laugh like Satan
Tomorrow again, there is something that he cares about
After all, humiliation is his line of work
But the last one to laugh will be our
invisible hero
 
He who has bent backwards in the arena
is he who experienced what power really is.
So Gypsy, sing, let's party my dear!
 
Your white blood
 
Originaltext

Viva Kalman!

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