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I'm driving on the road that Hitler builtI'm driving on the road that Hitler builtThis is the place where history stopped to shitAnd I'm driving on the road that Hitler builtI'm driving on the road that Stalin built nextThere's more holes in Joe's than Adolf'sBut what would you expectI wonder what the Germans didTo fall from history's nestAnd I'm driving on the road that Stalin built nextOn the roads of GermanyOn the roads of GermanyThese are the roads of the 20th centuryAnd there's blood and steel and leatherMixed into that concreteWhen you're riding on the roads of high GermanyI'm cruising on Konrad's AutobahnKonrad's got a Beetle and Ludwig a TrabantAnd Willy's got a Merc and Erich's got a tankBut that road only took me to a concrete dead end trapWe're driving on the road that never endsAll roads lead to exit signs and then they start againLetras de cancionesAnd Helmut's building on the wheel of history as it spinsAnd history never ends 'cos it's too busy beginningOn the roads of GermanyOn the roads of GermanyThese are the roads of the 20th centuryAnd there's blood and steel and leatherMixed into that concreteWhen you're riding on the roads of high GermanyAnd I'm walking in a Black Forest laneAnd I step into the trees for to get some leafy shadeAnd I fall asleep in some dappled sunlit gladeAnd I dream and in my dream I am lost and afraidAnd it grows dark, it grows damp and I shiver and I'm coldAnd deep inside the forest something obscenely oldStirs and shakes and comes awake and in it's putrid pitIt belches and it squirms in its own dirt and filthAnd slithers on it's stinking slime while everything holds its breathAnd its slow thighs, blank eyes pitiless as the pastReborn from its fitful sleep, its hour come again at lastSlouches towards its own Jerusalem to be re-castAnd in my horror I recognise myself in it as it passesFamiliar and repulsive and as old as mortal manThis philosophy of brutality, ignorance and hateBuried deep in everyone waiting to escapeAnd you must kill it before it kills you and everything in its wakeAnd I take my knife and I kill it, and it screams and then I wakeAnd I'm terrified and horrified and in this mortal stateI stagger toward the curbside of the 4 lane motorway"Drive" I say and we drive and soon I stop shakingBut I can't stop thinking 'bout these dreams and revelationsExcept it's not a dream it's real and it's of our own makingAnd it's not just Germany it's everywhere and the whole world is a-quakingAs we turn onto this road we all seem to be takingAnd you can't help thinking these things on the roads of Germany From Letras Mania