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