Roads Of Germany Lyrics - Bob Geldof

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