Germans Can't Dance, Poles Can't Sing

by A. J. Kaufmann

Oh you know the Germans can't dance
It's a well proven fact, there ain't no hidden quality to it
You know Germans can't swing, they just march and march
Ain't nothing new, marching East all the time
Finding locked doors, but knocking still, knocking loud
Finding empty windows, looking for a thrill or two
Germans can't dance, they're masters at will and war
They just need a wife, oh, it better be a white one
Make her blonde and make her wear high heels
Ooooh, Germans like the leather

Germans can't dance, and their Germanic queens
Have grown to be absurd commercial bitches
They're too high to see the light, to wash their dirty coats
Or be honest wine or salt or pepper
Germans can't be seen from behind their Himmler screens
Of dreams and silent Tempelhofer landers
Kennedy is dead, does nothing to my head,
Politics and music must differ
Germans can't dance and Poles can't sing
Ain't no promise of a good vibration
You'll get lots of toys and a lot of boys
From a fucked up German radio station

Poles can't sing, they just hold on their strings
Hanging from Hitler's lucky piano
Bloodlines mixed and bourbon fixed
Ain't nothing loud enough to stop these cellos
And me, I don't need soda, ice, don't need your bed of thoughts and lice
I just might find myself a decent woman
Don't need your collocations, divine interventions
I haven't seen these German cowards crawling

Kiss my ass and smoke my past, don't ever find my room again
German voice is bitter choice
To get rid of wartime frustrations
Build another wall, of fragrant alcohol
Dig the fun, Slavic spirit now commands the Sklaven