CHORUS
Well, there ain't no such thing as a gaucho named Klaus
Mysterious past that he don't talk about
Find stormtrooper boots hidden deep in his house
Cause there ain't no such thing as a gaucho named Klaus

Fighting hard for the fatherland
Until the battle was lost
What happened at Neuremburg bothered him
So the ocean he knew he must cross

Well he dropped him a line to the Vatican
Saying I hate Jews and commies
The pope said this boy is alright with me
In fact he reminds me of mommy
Now three gauchos sit by a fire and watch
The setting Argentinian sun
Tired from ropin doggies
Klaus, Paco, and Juan

Paco and Juan chat over hoe cakes and beans
Klaus is tight lipped by the fire
Braggin exaggerated machismo scenes
Of which those two boys never tire

Juan claimed once he killed a man
For makin a senorita cry
One man died at Paco's hand
Though no one can quite recall why

Well maybe it was too much cerveza
But the air in the Andes grew still
Klaus got a look on his face-a and said
You boy's don't know what it means to kill

When I worked selections at Auschwitz
I killed a thousand a day
I sent some to the barracks and some to be gassed
And I saved some for Dr. Mengele

Well no more words were spoken
There were bedrolls and silence to think
Paco and Juan slept uneasy
Klaus slept not a wink

Well morning fell soft on the gauchos
Juan rubbed the sleep from his eyes
Klaus and his bedroll had gone in the night
No one was really surprised

Now a gaucho with a thick German accent
Creeps over the border at dawn
He'll find him a farm in Uruguay
And stay till he has to move on

CHORUS