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by Momus

There are blood hounds and burial mounds upon these metal maps
Iron curtains tumble down, iron walls collapse
A thousand acorns trampled upon make a thousand oaks
In Germania, in Germania

Tannenbaum in Tinseltown, the legend goes before
The queen puts on a snowy gown, Frederick's at the door
Assign no blame, place no strain on the frail neck of the swan
In Germania, in Germania

Rotten flowers, forgotten powers, glory gathering
So childishly history is dancing in a ring
An old romance a toten tanz, hear the sirens sing
In Germania, in Germania

Contributed by Olivia I. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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