Now I wished I had a bushel Wished I had a peck Wished I had old Hitler With a rope around his neck. 
Hey, round, round Hitler’s grave Round, round we go Gonna lay that poor boy down He won’t get up no more. 
Mussolini [Hermann Goering] won’t last long Tell you the reason why We’re a-gonna salt his beef And hang it up to dry. (This verse by Woodie Guthrie) 
The German army general staff I guess they missed connection Went a hundred miles a day But in the wrong direction. 
I’m a-goin’ to Berlin To Mister Hitler’s town I’m gonna take my forty-four And blow his playhouse down. 
How Hitler went to Russia In search of Russian oil But the only oil he’ll find there Is a pot in which he’ll boil. 
[Hitler said to Goering Here’s what he did say I can’t understand this Russian snow, It’s getting too hot for me.] 
Now Mister Hitler’s traveling mighty fast But he’s on a one-way [single] track Started down that Moscow road But now he’s coming back. 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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