I'm driving on the road that Hitler built I'm driving on the road that Hitler built This is the place where history stopped to shit And I'm driving on the road that Hitler built
I'm driving on the road that Stalin built next There's more holes in Joe's than Adolf's But what would you expect I wonder what the Germans did To fall from history's nest And I'm driving on the road that Stalin built next
On the roads of Germany On the roads of Germany These are the roads of the 20th century And there's blood and steel and leather Mixed into that concrete When you're riding on the roads of high Germany
I'm cruising on Konrad's Autobahn Konrad's got a Beetle and Ludwig a Trabant And Willy's got a Merc and Erich's got a tank But that road only took me to a concrete dead end trap
We're driving on the road that never ends All roads lead to exit signs and then they start again And Helmut's building on the wheel of history as it spins And history never ends 'cos it's too busy beginning
On the roads of Germany On the roads of Germany These are the roads of the 20th century And there's blood and steel and leather Mixed into that concrete When you're riding on the roads of high Germany
And I'm walking in a Black Forest lane And I step into the trees for to get some leafy shade And I fall asleep in some dappled sunlit glade And I dream and in my dream I am lost and afraid And it grows dark, it grows damp and I shiver and I'm cold And deep inside the forest something obscenely old Stirs and shakes and comes awake and in it's putrid pit It belches and it squirms in its own dirt and filth And slithers on it's stinking slime while everything holds its breath And its slow thighs, blank eyes pitiless as the past Reborn from its fitful sleep, its hour come again at last Slouches towards its own Jerusalem to be re-cast And in my horror I recognise myself in it as it passes Familiar and repulsive and as old as mortal man This philosophy of brutality, ignorance and hate Buried deep in everyone waiting to escape And you must kill it before it kills you and everything in its wake And I take my knife and I kill it, and it screams and then I wake And I'm terrified and horrified and in this mortal state I stagger toward the curbside of the 4 lane motorway "Drive" I say and we drive and soon I stop shaking But I can't stop thinking 'bout these dreams and revelations Except it's not a dream it's real and it's of our own making And it's not just Germany it's everywhere and the whole world is a-quaking As we turn onto this road we all seem to be taking And you can't help thinking these things on the roads of GermanyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
