Lance-Corporal John Baxter
Hitler and his Wonderful Dream
I'll tell you a story, strange it may seem,
But it's all about Hitler, and his wonderful dream.
He dreamt he was dead, and lying in state,
And his little moustache was frozen with hate,
But he goose stepped proudly to the Golden Gate.
St. Peter cried out in voice loud and clear,
Stay Herr Hitler, you can't come in here.
Hitler replied, "At least you are civil,"
I suppose that means I can go to the devil.
"Now," Satan said, "Boys, I'm giving you warning,"
I'm expecting Herr Hitler, the Nazi this morning,
Now get this straight and get this clear,
We're too bloody good for Hitler down here.
"Oh Satan, Oh Satan," Hitler cried,
I heard what you said whilst waiting outside.
Please give me a corner, for I've no place to go.
Satan replied a thousand times, "No," and
Kicked Hitler's pants and vanished in smoke.
Just at that moment Herr Hitler awoke,
Yelling, "Herr Doctor, Herr Doctor, it's the worst dream yet."
To heaven I won't go, I know that too well,
But it's bloody hard lines to be kicked out of Hell.