P. Puck `90


I’m hanging round St. Stephan’s square
I’m waiting for my man
scrawny, thin and grey
Today will be his end

Elected by his people
a ‚Führer‘ they can trust
They know they can rely on him
an emblem of their past

Days and nights on the train
twelve hours in the air
cold steel by my side
My contract says it’s fair
his conscience pure as snow

His motives in the mud
his vest is white and always clean
until it’s stained with blood

He should be coming round the corner
where he walks his dog at nine
He’s an animal lover
like all faggots of his kind

Just a few steps closer
and I’ll have him in my sights
Suddenly pain in my leg
from a nasty poodle-bite

I killed the dog of the president
why did I only kill Waldheims‘ poodle
oh, I killed the dog of the president

About the brown past of Austrias ex-president.

© 1990, unreleased

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