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paul schoenfield - mister c. lyrics

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it’s the second year, oh dear god
since the stubborn swastika
can’t be shaken off our -sses
otherwise it’s on your knees

such a great terrible führer
such a mighty räubergoy
with his head chock full of garbage
while his bl–dy volk roars heil!

but mister c. puffs his big stogie
mister c. puffs out some smoke;
while europe falls and crumbles
but he is cool, he’s as cool, as cool can be

mister c. snuffs out his cigar
and he spits on adolf’s sieg
he’ll give him a pretty funeral
maybe even in nineteen forty-three

maybe, oh maybe, oh maybe—
but who can really know, who can really know
truly know for certain?
poor devil, maybe, just maybe, we’ll see
the english sea, maybe

yoom pom tiu dee dee dee yoom pah
yoom pom tiu dee dee dee yoo—
maybe, maybe—who know for certain
maybe with -ssistance from the russkies?
maybe from the eastern wind we’ll get some help?

- paul schoenfield lyrics

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