Few there are who’d disagree:

For German ideology

There’s quite a force to be deployed

Contained in both your breasts and groin

Soon the moment is upon you

When good fortune shines upon you:

That you might show the boys who fight

And yearn for beauty’s sweet delight

Just what those dirty crook-nosed ogres

Would have chosen for their lecher’s

Pleasure, had the boys not acted fast

And cranked the gas.

So wiggle your hips left and right

Flaunt your bottom in plain sight

Do a cartwheel, round and round,

Splay your legs and leave the ground

So that between your fleshy hams

You highlight your erogenous zones

While up above, as soft as butter,

Beckons your fantastic udder.

Thus it is you make apparent

What the foe tries to keep silent:

Even the worst terror acts

Cannot suppress the simple facts:

The truth that we call “strength through joy”

Is unaffected by his ploy

And gives us, even ’midst bombardment,

Entertainment.

Don’t listen to Mama’s protest

When, clad in a high-necked dress,

You appear on the silver screen,

Crying for a Germany

Brought low by base and shameless Jews,

Choked by Versailles’s unfair dues,

Sordid and pitifully quaking

Till we received Hitler’s waking—

Older ladies’ understanding

Cannot grasp film’s inner workings.

The path to film celebrity

Begins with your virginity;

But no star can begin to rise

Unless she first should spread her thighs.

The strictest virgin of her day

Has more than once rolled in the hay

Well before the film starts rolling—

This is simply the beginning

Of her rocket-like ascent

Into the starry firmament.

For the road to fame is arduous

On this point there’s broad consensus

Certain things you’ll find that slit

Upon which German maidens sit;

And as you climb up the ladder

May your stride grow ever wider

Should you find between each rung

A colleague or two (all well hung)

Waiting gamely for to lend

A helping hand.

They’re all experts in the trade,

In how Germanic glory’s made

To reach the men of every station,

Even ’midst the clash of nations.

If morality is strict,

Still, a luscious pair of tits

Can boost the spirits of the people,

Bringing joy that nearly equals

That which fills a blue-eyed face

On seeing some Jew put in his place.

Besides, the boys in far Donets

Expect the best and nothing less

And sooner rather than later

For our mighty German warriors:

In times of Nibelungen need

It’s not just bread that our boys need

Gunther, Giselher, and Arno

Need something to masturbate to

And the Reich’s loveliest woman

Makes them hard as iron.

So climb the rungs to filmic glory!

Never tell a soul you’re sorry!

See your star higher ascend

While back home mommy tells her friends

Don’t mind that climbing to the top

Means climbing on producers’ cocks,

Or going with the fellas,

Who are still behind the cameras

Even though their parentage

Requires a little subterfuge

And lots of foreign currency