blacing air helmets burn
metal crashing against steel
pull your head and push the pedal
tightly shut your eyes and roar
squeaking tires
white cross on our pumping muscles
number after number in circles
grab that steering wheel
turn to the right
who will win and who'll fall out
(grab that steering wheel
turn to the left)
this is a cute little course
we know each others faces and karts
we are like brothers and sisters
behaving like a starving mob of apes
when a dozen more girls
wave from the side of the goal
what are we on international tracks?
what if we weren't swiss for once?
(where did our big minds fall by the wayside?)
if we don't leave this track
and drive out in the high green
we will run this course forever
round for round with our flag
if we don't stop this wooden-headed
fame competition
we will be in war forever
day for day with no legs