Teresa Stratas Schickelgruber
(Verse 1)
In a hamlet in the Tyrol
An old lady isn't virile
She is languishing, unhappy is her heart
What she thinks about her baby
Who, if he'd been christened "Abie"
Maybe might have never played the monster's part
If her son had only married
If her lust had not miscarried
Who can say for certain what might not have been?
In her somber weeds of sorrow
She is hopeful some tomorrow
Might undo the passion that produced a sin
(Chorus 1)
Schickelgruber
Schickelgruber
You were born a child of shame
You have always been a bastard
Even though you changed your name
Came the headlines
Then the breadlines
As your will to power grew
Schickelgruber
Schickelgruber
What a pretty howdy do
Though a mother
I can smother
Mother love at thought of you
(Verse 2)
In his youth his one obsession
Was to practice a profession
And he dabbled with the palette and the paint
But the art he couldn't master
So he went from paint to plaster
And today he calls himself a plaster saint
Is he good or evil fairy?
All his pals have now grown wary
That is, those of them who didn't rate the purge
And the scent will ever linger
How he gave his friends the finger
Just to gratify and culminate an urge
(Chorus 2)
Schickelgruber
Schickelgruber
Once the dew was on the rose
Where you'll end up in the wind-up
Schickelgruber, Heaven knows
Ever ruthless
Ever truthless
When the judgment day is due
Repercussions
From the Russians
Schickelgruber, say you're through
Every pillage
That you pillage
In revenge will turn on you