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Undated —
Mister C (1940)
by Aleksander Kulisiewicz
It's the second year, dear God,
And the swastika's still frolicking;
There is no power that can exhaust it,
So we'd all better get down on our knees!
Such a terrible, great, ferocious Fuehrer,
Such a robber-goy - with paint brush, yet!
And his head's filled up with dirty dishwater,
While his stupid people shriek out: "Heil!"
Meanwhile, Mister C puffs his big cigar,
Mister C blows out some smoke;
Europe crumbles all around us,
And he's as cool as he can be!
But, Mister C will snuff out his smoke,
And he'll spit on Adolf's "Sieg!",
He'll pay for Adolf's funeral on the Isle of Rugia -
Maybe as early as '43!
Maybe, oh maybe, maybe we'll see -
Maybe, but who can really know for sure?
Maybe, poor devil, we'll see - the deep sea,
Maybe, especially, the English sea...
Yoom pom tiu di di di yoom pah,
Yoom pom tiu di di di yoo -
Maybe, Maybe...but who can really know for sure?
Maybe the "eastern wind" can help.
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