England

It's been a long time since I've been with you
You may be grey-green
But matchless and wide
I wanted to sniff at every inch of you
Went to Birmingham New Street
To take a ride

Over aqueducts on a suspiciously paiting train
High on diesel fumes I pondered on my way

I may like New York, Bavaria or Paris
But nothing compares to you, England
'Cause England's got Steve Harris

England, I know
I may have explained it somewhere before
But I swear it wasn't my idea
To ontrive that silly way
Okay, I've got to admit
This was, uhm, and talking humour
You've got to know I'm just anosser
German bloke

Who loves afternoon tea
And Bob Catley and Mr. Bean
Who loves to buy miniature phone booths
And cute little snow globes raining snow
On a cute little queen

Mostly you're jolly
At times you're frustrated, England
Then rest assured
I also think pentalty shootouts
Are highly overrated

Vienna has got Mozart
Chopin they had in Paris (kind of)
The catholics got the Pope
England's got the Beatles
And even more so

England's got Steve Harris

England's got Steve Harris
And as if that was not enough for you:
England's got Bruce Dickinson
And on top of it the other ones
In Iron Maiden too, yes, it's true

Vienna has got Mozart ball
The frenchies they got Paris

In Rome they got the Pope
Who in turn they don't have in England
But England's got Steve Harris

I may like New York, Bavaria or Paris
But nothing compares to you, England
'Cause you got the magic bullet
England's got Steve Harris

England, inventors of Def Leppard
Shakespeare
Indian food, Gary Lineker
That bloke who did away with Braveheart
Et cetera, and so forth, good night