T: Rob Chrispijn ET: Chris Adler M: Herman van Veen Erik van der Wurff	Parade of clowns	jaar: 1983
	Make way for a parade of clowns dripping with the sweat of earthly pain moving through the crowds of plastic people quite protected from the rain. See the drunkard who hides his swollen bruises, sorrow is wearing a three piece suit, how trim, so smartly grim and all around kids are playing gathered in huddles and splashing in puddles and jumping in holes and mother's upset cause her children are wet, it's bad for their souls. These clowns are having a circus to raise money against a war, painted fools who pass the hat for peace, well, what else is money for. They pass a statue of a well known thief of old, an everlasting monument to stealing gold. The clowns look up, they point their eyes at gloomy skies dogs bark and run through the park while god starts to roar the thunder explodes all over the roads and tears start to pour. They pass the red light district which is filled with giant breasts, ten dollars for all you can eat, drink up your milkshake made of lust, a meal served on the street, from a car a man yells out his order, and stuffs his face, with perfumed lace and he's full and vultures wait to fill their plate when he is gone. The streets are shining like silver mirrors the city's beserk and yet, the clowns keep marching on to finish their work. verschenen op: On Broadway (1983)