Memories of Oświęcim

I was one day crossing Poland on my trusty pogo stick,
Feeling rather randy, hoping to dip my willing wick,
When I arrived in Oświęcim, one dark and dreary night
And soon I found a nice hotel, its lights all shining bright.
Once I'd checked in there, I went to the restaurant
Only slightly disconcerted by the kitchen's cabbage-pong;
And after I had eaten a truly stodgy Polish meal
I wandered into the lounge to see what it might reveal.

There was a couple sitting there, looking rather glum
And I was rather taken by the lady's shapely bum;
I walked over to the pair to say a friendly 'hello';
How she ogled me, 'cos I'm a such a handsome fellow.
I said to the man, "Oh dear, you don't look very happy,
I'm the Bard of Gosforth and a really cheerful chappie".
The geezer said his name was Mike and his wife was called Rebekah,
And as I looked her up and down, I felt a tingling in my pecker.

I bought a vodka bottle and we glugged the whole lot down
And then I asked them what had led them to this town;
Rebekah said her grand-dad had come to Auschwitz on a train,
And (as you might imagine), he'd never left again;
Mike and Bec were pilgrims, that's why they were so tearful,
And they were very touched that I'd tried to make them cheerful,
Ike added he was a voyeur, and he'd been one all his life
Thus he would like to watch me shag his nubile nympho wife.

Up we went quite hurriedly to my penthouse suite
And soon Rebekah's clothes lay scattered at our feet;
Her husband watched quite avidly as I got on with the job
And I really did my very best to excite the stupid slob.
I gave it to Bec doggie-style, how she screamed, the little tart,
And just before her climax she did a huge great fart;
I was totally astounded as the bum-gas flowed o'er me -
It was a really horrid smell, even worse than Zyklon-B.

As soon as we'd recovered, I felt a sense of shame
(although I do not think I myself could be held to blame);
After all, the whole goddam' idea had been Ike's alone;
I had done nothing for which I needed to atone.
Yet I still felt exhausted once the pair had left my room
(but proud of the huge deposit I'd pumped into Becky's womb).
And suddenly I was inspired to write a lovely little song,
To which I invite all my fans to come and sing-a-long:

Liebe macht frei, liebe macht frei
Küssen, ficken und sodomieren dabei;
Liebe macht frei, liebe macht frei
Plus 69 variations which you might as well try.