6

Fair to one, fair to all
they ever do repeat.
Yet color of hair and lightness of eyes
mark the ones who are sheep.

Like the shepherd of many flocks
the strange ones out do weep.
Hitler standing at their head
sorting out the weak.

Despair! Despair! Poor Black Sheep
for the wolves of custom come.
Those not fair of eyes and hair
hear the warning drum.

Flee to here, flee to there
far from privileged few.
The wolves who prowl, howling out
You Jew! You Jew! You Jew!