Nur eine Stunde von Menschen fern, Nur eine einzige Stunde! Statt der tönenden Worte des Waldes Schweigen, Statt des wirbelnden Tanzes der Elfen Reigen, Statt der leuchtenden Kerzen den Abendstern, Nur eine Stunde von Menschen fern!
Nur eine Stunde im grünen Wald, Nur eine einzige Stunde! Auf dem schwellenden Rasen umhaucht von Düften, Gekühlt von den reinen balsamischen Lüften, Wo von ferne leise das Echo schallt, Nur eine Stunde im grünen Wald!
Nur eine Stunde im grünen Wald, Nur eine einzige Stunde! Wo die Halme und Blumen sich flüsternd neigen, Wo die Vögel sich wiegen auf schwankenden Zweigen, Wo die Quelle rauscht aus dem Felsenspalt, Nur eine Stunde im grünen Wald!
Πριν από 2.500 χρόνια, ο Αριστοτέλης υποστήριξε πως «δεν υπάρχει καμία μεγάλη ιδιοφυΐα χωρίς κάποια δόση παράνοιας». Σήμερα ο ισχυρισμός του αποδεικνύεται επιστημονικά καθώς πολυάριθμες μελέτες αποδεικνύουν πως η ευφυΐα σχετίζεται με την μελαγχολία.
[Youtube: Demo of Alison Chabloz’s new revisionist ditty which, this time, reveals the outrageous lies of so-called ‘Holocaust’ ‘survivors’.]
My name is Irene Zisblatt and I come from Hungary Can you believe what evil Nazi bastards did to me I was gassed not once but twice I mangaed to escape Over the electric fence Landed on the train
I saw them taking babies and tearing them in two And creepy Dr Mengele he removed my tattoo They tried to turn my brown eyes blue Make lampshades from my skin For months I swallowed diamonds And shat them out again
Tell us another Come on, my brother Repeat the cover For tribal gain Safe in our tower Now is the hour Money and power We have no shame
Let’s lie and cheat on film No one suspects a thing Bigger the lie is better for us! Every fake survivor Every fake survivor’s laughing Fake survivors’ tongues are wagging All us frauds are busy blagging Spin and yarn there’ll be no gagging You shall pay All the way Every night and day!
My name is Elie Wiesel may I show you my tattoo I wrote a book for US kids to study while at school It’s full of nonsense tales of course What do you all expect But it made me very wealthy As a liar I’m the best
At Auschwitz they burned babies tho the water table’s high Fred Leuchter’s work on ditches well it almost made me cry Treblinka was a another one There was no funeral pyre I cannot speak Hungarian But oh boy can I lie
History repeats itself No limit to our wealth Thanks to your debt we’re Bleeding you dry We control your media Control of your books and TV With the daily lies we feed you Suffering victimisation Sheeple have no realisation You shall pay…
My name is Otto Frank and my daughter’s name is Anne The poor girl died of typhus at Bergen-Belsen camp She wrote an introduction To her famous diary The rest was penned by Levin then publishèd by me
Two thousand and sixteen the copyright came to an end The Anne Frank trust decided once again the rules to bend We truly had no choice although The whole thing really stank But the book now has two authors Anne and Otto Frank.
Bank notes let’s print some more We love to see you poor Let’s start a war Our pockets to line There is no more doubting Every nations debt is mounting While the bankers keep on counting Pension fund has now gone awol Nothing left upon your table You shall pay..
