Cesare the somnambulist is out of his cage
There’s a tin drum rollin’ over Europe, tonight.

Cruel to see, to learn to be,
A finger in the air
Ooo darlin', history’s callin', history’s coming to tea

Creeping out of the corners,
We come out on the streets
What is this holy feeling,
That we just cannot beat?

Oskar is coming to town!

I wandered into the New York stock exchange
And I shattered the screens with my voice.
Wall Street’s crashed again
Wall Street’s crashed

Tanks linin’ up
Fossil fuels firin’ up

I was an aborted foetus in New York on February 20th 1939
I want you to make me whole again

The cabaret is booming
In the kitchens of Berlin
They’re throwing shade in New York
Now that dragging up is in
But the crowds are getting restless
Now that the news is in
That their security demands an outsider

I went down to the sea

Hiding under rostrums
Cooking up some degenerate music
Your band will dance to my tune

I was born on the sunset of the American empire
Baptised in the milk of colonial amnesia
Sanctified in the sanctimonious
And born again as a white saviour
Divorced from time and history.

The channels still pump fuels and oil
Lubricated by bones cracked so distantly
That they could be the rustling of grass in the wind
Meanwhile, our pennies are miserly counted
And eked out like bribes
Sweet charity tweaks puppet strings in divine counterfeit

We burn the fuel
And we fry them up
When they come round
Our hands rise up

Draw up the bridge
As they die in droves
Flood them with arms
A good price, oh.

I’m picaresque through the nightmare, you see,
Irony is the saviour of Europe.

Warships in the night graze the harbour
Bobbing and swelling with the bodies

Cut onions down into five thousand pieces
Flood these lands with catharsis and shame.
Break me down into five thousand pieces
Bring me round ‘fore they take me away.