Desperanto (A Song For Europe?)
This is our song for Europe,
I thought we saw the borders fall?
Guerre sans Frontiers
And it seems nothing changed here at all.
They're building a Tower of Babel in Brussels
It's called the Euromisery,
And once we're inside they'll take us for a ride.
Placing life and death decisions in the hands of politicians,
Poltroons playing judge and jury - like alcoholics in a brewery.
This is our anthem of nations,
Another treaty signed in vain.
It's a knockout!
Hope falls to the canvas again.
It's an uncommon market - we're all Eurosexual,
I want an E.C. lay, and when I'm inside she'll take me for a ride.
Passing laws on moral issues
Sticky fingers holding tissues.
Pyromaniacs with fire who light the fuse and then retire.
This is our song for Europe,
I thought we saw the borders fall?
Guerre sans Frontiers
And it seems nothing changed here at all.
A well cultured vulture feathers his nest,
It's a chalet near Aix-en-Provence,
The Porche he drives has been paid for with lives.
Starve the pure and feed corruption,
Walk the path to self destruction,
Open old wounds - turn them septic,
Save us all from Euro-sceptics.
This is our anthem of nations,
Another treaty signed in vain.
It's a knockout!
Hope falls to the canvas again.
I thought we saw the borders fall?
Guerre sans Frontiers
And it seems nothing changed here at all.
They're building a Tower of Babel in Brussels
It's called the Euromisery,
And once we're inside they'll take us for a ride.
Placing life and death decisions in the hands of politicians,
Poltroons playing judge and jury - like alcoholics in a brewery.
This is our anthem of nations,
Another treaty signed in vain.
It's a knockout!
Hope falls to the canvas again.
It's an uncommon market - we're all Eurosexual,
I want an E.C. lay, and when I'm inside she'll take me for a ride.
Passing laws on moral issues
Sticky fingers holding tissues.
Pyromaniacs with fire who light the fuse and then retire.
This is our song for Europe,
I thought we saw the borders fall?
Guerre sans Frontiers
And it seems nothing changed here at all.
A well cultured vulture feathers his nest,
It's a chalet near Aix-en-Provence,
The Porche he drives has been paid for with lives.
Starve the pure and feed corruption,
Walk the path to self destruction,
Open old wounds - turn them septic,
Save us all from Euro-sceptics.
This is our anthem of nations,
Another treaty signed in vain.
It's a knockout!
Hope falls to the canvas again.