Not the Jew I Had In Mind You Are not the Jew That I Had in mind. No, you Are not the Jew That I Had in mind. You don’t walk right, You don’t talk right, You don’t play right, You don’t pray right. I search my feelings, and I find You’re not the Jew I had in mind. You don’t vote right, Don’t scapegoat right, You don’t quote the right writers right. And your views on Zion Are not aligned With the Jew I had in mind. You Are not the Jew That I Had in mind. No, you Are not the Jew That I Had in mind. You don’t date right, So you don’t mate right, So your mate don’t bake that kugel right (it’s dry) You’re a threat to your own kind— You’re not the Jew I had in mind You Are not the Jew That I Had in mind. No, you Are not the Jew That I Had in mind. Well I don’t do this, And I don’t do that, And I don’t wear no special hat, You search the world, until you find That Goddamn Jew you had in...

What Kind of Bear Am I? You ask me, what kind of bear am I? I hardly know myself, but I suppose I’ll try To tell you what kind of bear am I: They took me from the woods when I was small Played the music, made me dance on the hot, hot, hot coal They said I almost sounded human when I’d bleat and cry And you ask me, what kind of bear am I? You ask me, what kind of bear am I? I graduated with a master’s in humanity From the Smorgon Bear Academy Then my master and I, we travelled here and there Every prince and peasant loves a jaunty dancing bear But I’m not so jaunty now, so I suppose I see why You ask me, what kind of bear am I? I ate my master one day and my freedom I gained With a knife and a fork, just as I had been trained I had to use a knife and fork just like people do My master’d pulled all my teeth out, it made him difficult to chew. I passed… I passed the checkpoints in disguise, using clippers and hair dye And you ask me, what kind of bear am I? So now I work the tavern and we share every coin It pays for the necessities, I can’t complain I couldn’t live now in the woods, even if I had the chance I serve the drinks, hear the music and I try not to dance But sometimes I just can’t stop myself no matter how I try And you ask me, what kind of bear am I? Why don’t you tell me, what kind of bear am I? (Dances)

Ven Kimsti? Ikh bin mir a flinker marvikher Un prave mayn seyder in kitsh. Fun pekl der flinkster, Mayn mazl der linkster, Ven kimsti aroysnemen mikh? Ikh arbet, oy voylster ying mayner, Di kayserine kert veltn, zog ikh. Az ikh shaf nor monetes Tsi shmiren di mentes, Dan kim ikh aroysnemen dikh. Yontef shvies oopgerikht tikn, Nokh dir di oygn oysgekikt zikh, Gezeyn nor dus mayzl, Vus mayn kamer’z zayn hayzl, Ven kimsti aroysnemen mikh? Ikh arbet, oy voyler ying mayner, Dayn Zhizelke rayst shtiker fun zikh. ‘Kh darf nokh eyn gelt-koyshl Interrikn dem moyshl, Dan kim ikh aroysnemen dikh. S’iz shoyn yom-kipper, Zhizelke, Der tug fun beytn un paynikn zikh. Ikh hob dir geglaybt, nur Ikh zits vayter in khur, Ven kimsti aroysnemen mikh? Di toyfsl mayner, shilmazl, ‘Kh ti mir mayns, nor di tkife, zi krikht, Az di folks-revolutsye Kimt baa folks-pertsikutsye Dan kim ikh aroysnemen dikh. In tfise iz khanike finster, Shoyn vinter, ikh hob nish’ ka’ shikh. Ikh zits in di gatkes, Mir kholemt zikh latkes, Ven kimsti aroysnemen mikh? Ven kim ikh? Ikh bin shoyn gekimen, Me’ hot gekhapt mikh, vi di zits ikh zikh. Zol zikh dreyen dos reydl, Zol der kop vern dos veydl–– Ven kimsti aroysnemen mikh? Translation: I’m a skilful thief And I’m having my seder in stir I’m the most skilful in the gang My luck is the worst When are you coming to get me out? I’m working, o best of my goodfellas Trust me, your female gangleader’s doing all she can Once I’ve got the money [lit., coins] To grease the guards Then I’ll be coming to get you out I stayed up all night on Shavuos[1] Watching for your arrival All I saw was the mouse Whose house is my cell When are you coming to get me out? I’m working on it, my goodfella You Giselle is breaking her back/ass. I need one more basket of money To slip to the prosecutor/judge Then I’ll be coming to get you out It’s already Yom Kippur, Giselle The day of prayer and self-mortification I believed you, but I’m still in the joint When are you coming to get me out? My shlimazl of a convict I’m doing all that I can, but the times are behind me But when the people’s revolution Conquers the people’s persecution Then I’ll be coming to get you out Chanukah in prison is dark It’s already winter and I have no shoes I sit in my long johns Dreaming of latkes When are you coming to get me out? When am I coming? I’m already there They caught me and I’m doing time like you Let the wheel turn Let the head become the tail: When are you coming to get me out?

Would You Hide Me? All my life, I’ve had nightmares of being hunted, I was taught About the pogroms and the Holocaust, I mean a lot. My grandmother said “Don’t kid yourself, my dear, If for one second you think can’t happen here. Your friends and neighbours are no different than The happy folks in Munich, Lyon, Eindhoven, If times turn bad, they’ll need a scapegoat too, And it’s dollars to donuts they’ll blame the You Know Who. Half your friends and your neighbours in the neighbourhood Will turn you into the Gestapo for the public good.” I’ve travelled round this world and I looked hard and I looked long, I can’t say that I’ve found anything to prove my gramma wrong. So if I’m looking at you funny it’s ’cause there's something I’m trying to see: I wonder, wonder, wonder, Would you hide me? When I first come over to visit for tea, My behaviour might seem erratic. I’m poking around just assessing The livability of your attic Lately the question feels easier to answer than before, As the monsters tear their masks off round the world and just next door. Maybe it’s not as bad as it could be yet, They’re just picking off the people who are easiest to get. As I grew older, I came to discover: Every nation’s a machine for hunting somebody or other. It’s never a question of “Do the hunters exist?” It’s only a question of who is on the list. So who would we hide and what would we risk to hide them? Are you ready to ride in the train beside them? Or spend your life looking through the curtains out the window, Scanning for movement in the quiet streets below... The cost of eternal vigilance is that you never ever feel free, As I wonder, wonder, wonder, Would you hide me?

Vilne, shtot fun gayst un tmimes Vilne, yidishlekh fartrakht Vu es murmlen shtile tfiles Shtile soydes fun der nakht Oft mol ze ikh dikh in kholem Heys gelibte Vilne mayn Un di alte Vilner geto In a nepldiker shayn Vilne, Vilne, undzer heymshtot Undzer benkshaft un bager Akh, vi oft es ruft dayn nomen Fun mayn oyg aroys a trer Vilner geslekh, vilner taykhn Vilner velder, barg un tol Epes noyet, epes benkt zikh Nokh di tsaytn fun amol ´Kh ze dem veldele Zakreter In zayn shotn ayngehilt Vu geheym es hobn lerer Undzer visndursht geshtilt Vilne hot dem ershtn fodem Fun der frayheyts-fon gevebt Un di libe kinder ire Mit a tsartn gayst balebt Vilne, Vilne, undzer heymshtot Undzer benkshaft un bager Akh, vi oft es ruft dayn nomen Fun mayn oyg aroys a trer Vilner geslekh, vilner taykhn Vilner velder, barg un tol Epes noyet, epes benkt zikh Nokh di tsaytn fun amol _____________________________ Vilna, city of spirit and sincerity Vilna, pensive in its Jewishness Where quiet prayers murmur Quiet secrets of the night I often see you in my dreams Dearly beloved Vilna of mine With the old Vilna ghetto Sparkling in the fog Vilna, Vilna, our hometown Our longing and desire Oh, how often does your name Call a tear forth from my eye Vilna laneways, Vilna rivers Vilna forests, hill and dale Something haunts me, something’s longing For the days that used to be I see the Zakrete wood Where teachers would secretly Quench our thirst for knowledge Wrapped in its usual shade Vilna wove the first thread Of the flag of freedom And aroused a tenderness of spirit In her beloved children Vilna, Vilna, our hometown Our longing and desire Oh, how often does your name Call a tear forth from my eye Vilna laneways, Vilna rivers Vilna forests, mountain and valley Something haunts me, something’s longing For the days that used to be

Grand Hotel Cosmopolis This little old man has taken the stage And he’s yelling his inexpressible rage That’s the signal for the good times! Time to get moving To this band, we really know how to look like we know what we’re doing We’re at the Grand Hotel Cosmopolis The Grand Hotel Cosmopolis If you’re an exile like me, this is the place you can go There’s a lot of that going around you know Here’s where the people are decent, friendly and kind That’s a radical notion in these clarifying times Here at the Grand Hotel Cosmopolis The Grand Hotel Cosmopolis So come on with me Help me prove that it’s true We have a better party than the right-wing bastards do Come on with me And when you get done Go make a Grand Hotel Cosmopolis of your own A Grand Hotel Cosmopolis Grand Hotel Cosmopolis We’re gonna have a party tonight Briga’s gonna block the German police The nationalists wish that we didn’t exist Sponsored by the klezmer bund and Jewdas We’re gonna celebrate and grieve And swing a chicken with it I got a flask behind my handkerchief I bet you know what’s in it

The Drummer Requests Oh the drummer has but one request as such He doesn’t ask for much So don’t be a crashing bore Stay out on the floor And continue dancing The drummer’s handsome and so dashing Plays the kit with wit and passion You can thank him in this fashion Please continue dancing Please continue dancing He was the first to join the band Like us he’ll help you understand The greatest thing a klezmer can do Is continue dancing Please continue dancing Please continue dancing And when You’re tired of dancing That’s when we would suggest continue dancing If you pretend That you are dancing Sometimes you’ve tricked yourself, you’re actually dancing! Our passports have a thousand stamps We eat like kings and sleep like tramps Past all the brand new prison camps We will continue dancing We’ll continue dancing And if you find that you have fallen You’ll still hear that kick drum calling If you can’t stand up, try crawling And continue dancing Please continue dancing And when You’re tired of dancing That’s when we would suggest continue dancing If you pretend That you are dancing Sometimes you’ve tricked yourself, you’re actually dancing! We’re not saying that you gotta Please continue dancing Dancing in your chair is part of Please continue dancing Ain’t no perfect way you oughta Please continue dancing Please continue dancing Please continue dancing And when You’re tired of dancing That’s when we would suggest continue dancing If you pretend That you are dancing Sometimes you’ve tricked yourself, you’re actually dancing!

Oh You Survivalists Oh you survivalists With your funny little shopping lists Believe me, I get the gist Of your point of view You think the rest of us Are just zombies with brains full of pus Well this pus-head wants to make a fuss And sing a song to you Doot doo dee doo dee doo dee doo doo Doot doo dee doo dee doo dee doo doo Doot doo dee doo dee doo dee doo doo Doo doo You want to live off the grid Like your ancestor Gilligan did You don’t mind if you find yourself rid Of people like me We who never learned to change no tires Never rubbed two sticks to make fires Never wanted to do dentistry with pliers How silly are we! You’ll live off the land, of course This land that was never yours That the government cleared for you by force You independent man No one to tell you when your poetry smells No one to help you with your dried up wells Who will you call when your prostate swells? I guess you’ll do what you can. And you might outlive me but you know, it’s strange When the seasons fail to change Within a predictable range Oh, but that’s a lie (sigh) But at the failure of the fourth harvest You’re gonna starve to death unless— Terribly sorry, there is no unless! You’re just going to die And you know, that’s not the worst You’re gonna have to watch you kids go first In their eyes, a silent curse And a question: “Why? “Daddy, why? Daddy, why?” At the time of calamity You cut yourself off from humanity It wasn’t John Wayne vanity! No, that can’t be true Oh, you survivalists With your funny little shopping lists With the remaining time that exists I’ll sing a song for you Doot doo dee doo dee doo dee doo doo Doot doo dee doo dee doo dee doo doo Doot doo dee doo dee doo dee doo doo Doo doo

Why Don’t We Just Take the Billionaires’ Money Away? There’s a lot of different lefty political ways to think And most of them think that most of them mostly stink But maybe there’s some things we could agree on, I mean isn’t it fair to say— We could start by taking the billionaires’ money away Why don’t we just take the billionaire’s money away? And spend it on shit for which millionaires say We can’t afford to pay We could start by taking the billionaires’ money away There’s like, eight guys who own more than half of the whole human race I’d like to sit down with you, and chat about just what that says But I can’t be bothered, I’d rather be talking with people who are ready today Ready to take those billionaires’ money away And spend it on Healthcare Childcare Transcare Eldercare Mental care Dental care Shelter Etc. You get the picture? Some say we can’t do it, on account of the economy Because rich people own more of it, so it scares investment, you see But we’ve been doing it their way for a long time now, how’s that working out? Okay. Then let’s innovate by taking the billionaires’ money away. Now let’s take it up a tax bracket… Some say we can’t do it, because the billionaires keep it all hid But the government could find it if it wanted to, what if they did? So if you say it can’t be done, I’m done with you, chum Go take a billion holidays in the sun With your friend, the Aga Khan Or Richard Branson Or that schmuck from Amazon While the rest of us take the billionaires’ money away We’re gonna take the billionaires’ money away And spend it on shit for which millionaires say We can’t afford to pay We’re gonna take those billionaires’ money away

Zog Nit Keyn Mol (Partisan Song) Zog nit keyn mol az du geyst dem letstn veg Khotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg Kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho S’vet a poyk ton undzer trot: Mir zaynen do! Fun grinem palmenland biz vaysn land fun shney Mir kumen on mit undzer payn, mit undzer vey Un vu gefaln iz a sphrits fun undzer blut Shprotsn vet dort undzer gvure, undzer mut Es vet di morgnzun bagildn undz dem haynt Un der nekhtn vet farshvindn mitn faynd Nor oyb farzamen vet di zun in dem kayor Vi a parol zol geyn dos lid fun dor tsu dor Zog nit keyn mol az du geyst dem letstn veg Khotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg Kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho S’vet a poyk ton undzer trot: Mir zaynen do! Don’t ever say that you’re walking your last mile Even though the blue days are hidden behind leaden skies The hour for which we’ve been yearning is still on the way Our feet will drum it out: We’re here! From the green land of palm trees to the white land of snow We’re coming with our pain and with our woe And wherever our blood spurts to earth Our courage and might are going to take root The morning sun will turn our today to gold And yesterday will vanish with our foe But if the sun of dawn should come a little late May this song be a watchword from one generation to the next Don’t ever say that you’re walking your last mile Even though the blue days are hidden behind leaden skies The hour for which we’ve been yearning is still on the way Our feet will drum it out: We’re here!