Lyrics

Here comes Nicholas, fiddle in hand (Dance, idiot, dance!) Into a world that he can't understand (Dance, idiot, dance!) You can't keep pace with the master race His feet they're going all over the place He can't see his moves cos there's egg on his face Dance, idiot dance! His body's as stiff as a cold lasagna (Dance, idiot, dance!) 'Cos all he knows is 'Rule Brittannia' (Dance, idiot, dance!) His rhythm's so bad that we're supposin' Maybe it's cos his legs are frozen? Shouldn't be wearing lederhosen! Dance, idiot dance! Messianical look in his eye (Dance, idiot, dance!) Arms akimbo, slapping his thigh (Dance, idiot, dance!) He wrinkles his snout at a likely wench We've censored her answer and pardoned her French It's hard for your average Ubermensch Dance idiot, dance! Poor old Nicholas got up today (Dance, idiot, dance!) To Cecil Sharpe House he made his way (Dance, idiot, dance!) Wore his uniform just to impress And said, "this must be the place, I guess For joining the EFD-SS?" Dance, idiot, dance!