The SS has the house surrounded,
I hear boots crunch the gravel drive,
to them I’m a mongrel impounded.
The terror’s in how long I’ll be alive,
Zyklon awaits, I’m frozen, grounded.
My legs are flailing in useless terror,
there won’t be any counter attack,
or convincing them they’re in error,
not with my I.D tattooed in black.
My mother’s words broke through
and I realized it was 1986 not 1942.
Below the US AGAINST THEM slogan,
on my track top,
were Soviet and U.S rockets,
side by side like Olympic athletes.
I was destined to learn ‘democracy’
isn’t brain washing free,
that every country has its NAZI’S,
and it means nothing
that there’s no goosestepping going on
at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.