They measured heads, being knowledgeable
So that they might know
Why the gypsy is as he is
And what makes him so,
To sort the good from the bad
And seperate them until
All the goats are taken from the sheep
And afterwards they'll kill
And solve the gypsy question
A "Final Solution" is what they call
Their policy of murder
Done for the benefit of all.
She, the lady was the one of the Red Hair
For from her head was grown
Some of the lovliest auborn locks
That a woman ever did own.
And she was educated
And stayed with them a while
Was friendly during her work
Met them all with a smile
But her heart in stone was set
And it was temepered in hate
That the gypsies were unhelpable
As a whole, she did state
In her reports to the Department of Health
And so helped seal their fate
Though in fairness in the Germany of the day
Their survival chances were not great.
He took blood samples as doctors do,
And often ummed and aaahed
And took facial moulds in wax
And measurements of what they had
Ratios of eyes to ears
And shapes of mouths and nose and heads
And tabulated them as scientests do
And great reports they made.
For the science of mere man
In its primitie form does state
That by calculation of obervation
The facts you'll demonstrate...
Somewhere in hell there does dwell
A lady with flame red hair
And a clever scientist who took bloods
Resides along with her there
And those they declared evil
Or who could not be tames
In the choirs of angels
Among the saved are names.
For all of their knowledge
Them fools the could not see
That what you do to the least of men
That you done to He,
The one that died one the Cross
Who will judge us all
And those who measured heads being knowledgable
Shall be shown to be but fools, after all.
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