Motherland I never thought I’d see the day
When even the ornaments sprouted legs, and moved away.
I wish to roam, find a new home, put the key in my back and turn, turn, turn
The soils laced with truth, the fiddler broke his back when he fell off the roof!
Tradition, tradition! He never kept his word so we
“Rush the border!”
There is a voice that taunts me in my head,
There is greener grass to eat, unearth the fortune that you seek.
If I had wings, I’d flap out of this town, but feathers sun and wax sent Icarus hurtling to the ground.
And dressing up in guard attire led the tailor straight to hell.
So my good friends, I’m afraid you have no choice
I’ll count backwards- three, two, one, then we
“Rush the border!”
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