Hungarian

Hungarians
Full of beauty
But with no clue
Wearing lycra, pink, yellow and blue
What is the colour code that
Means you might clash?
There is none, its so outrageous
Like cold hard cash
It is blunt
It is forward
It is sex, without style
It is here then it is gone
After no fucking while

There is no style
No inhibitions to conquer
No hidden depths
You have yet to uncover
Or if there are
They are not mysterious
Only in that Hungarian way
That means you have to learn their fucking language
To get the jokes every long step of the way

What I hate most about this fucking fake country
Is the way there is no gentleness
No sympathy
So a jew died
They make a fucking joke
So Hitler is Kaput
That is as far as any retrospective seeks

So we colluded with the Nazis
So we dobbed our nieghbours in
That is just what you had to do to survive
In the circumstances
Who else would do different
Who will win?
That is the point they never win
Because they always crawl up the German arse-hole
Covered with sin
They always survive
But then again
So do cowards and who wants
To live with them?