I'm driving on the road that Hitler built   I'm driving on the road that Hitler built   This is the place where history stopped to shit   And I'm driving on the road that Hitler built      I'm driving on the road that Stalin built next   There's more holes in Joe's than Adolf's    But what would you expect   I wonder what the Germans did   To fall from history's nest   And I'm driving on the road that Stalin built next      On the roads of Germany   On the roads of Germany   These are the roads of the 20th century   And there's blood and steel and leather   Mixed into that concrete   When you're riding on the roads of high Germany      I'm cruising on Konrad's Autobahn   Konrad's got a Beetle and Ludwig a Trabant   And Willy's got a Merc and Erich's got a tank   But that road only took me to a concrete dead end trap      We're driving on the road that never ends   All roads lead to exit signs and then they start again   And Helmut's building on the wheel of history as it spins   And history never ends 'cos it's too busy beginning      On the roads of Germany   On the roads of Germany   These are the roads of the 20th century   And there's blood and steel and leather   Mixed into that concrete   When you're riding on the roads of high Germany      And I'm walking in a Black Forest lane   And I step into the trees for to get some leafy shade   And I fall asleep in some dappled sunlit glade   And I dream and in my dream I am lost and afraid   And it grows dark, it grows damp and I shiver and I'm cold   And deep inside the forest something obscenely old   Stirs and shakes and comes awake and in it's putrid pit   It belches and it squirms in its own dirt and filth   And slithers on it's stinking slime while everything holds its breath   And its slow thighs, blank eyes pitiless as the past   Reborn from its fitful sleep, its hour come again at last   Slouches towards its own Jerusalem to be re-cast   And in my horror I recognise myself in it as it passes   Familiar and repulsive and as old as mortal man   This philosophy of brutality, ignorance and hate   Buried deep in everyone waiting to escape   And you must kill it before it kills you and everything in its wake   And I take my knife and I kill it, and it screams and then I wake   And I'm terrified and horrified and in this mortal state   I stagger toward the curbside of the 4 lane motorway   "Drive" I say and we drive and soon I stop shaking   But I can't stop thinking 'bout these dreams and revelations   Except it's not a dream it's real and it's of our own making   And it's not just Germany it's everywhere and the whole world is a-quaking   As we turn onto this road we all seem to be taking   And you can't help thinking these things on the roads of Germany