There are great puddles of blood on the world
Where is it all going?
All this spilled blood?
Is it the earth that drinks
It and gets drunk?
Funny kind of drunkography then
So wise, so monotonous, no
The earth doesn't get drunk
The earth doesn't turn askew
It pushes it's little car regularly, it's
Four seasons, rain, snow, hail, fair weather
Never is it drunk
It's with difficulty it permit's it'self
From time to time an unhappy little volcano
It turns, the earth
It turns with it's trees, it's gardens
It's houses
It turns with it's great pools of blood
And all living things turn with it and bleed
It doesn't give a damn the earth
It turns and all living things set up a howl
It doesn't give a damn it turns
It doesn't stop turning
And the blood doesn't stop running

Where's it going all this spilled blood?
Murder's blood, war's blood, misery's blood
And the blood of men tortured in prisons
And the blood of children calmly tortured
By their papa and their mama
And the blood of men whose
Heads bleed in padded cells
And the roofers blood when the roofer
Slips and falls from the roof
And the blood that comes and flows
In great gushes with the newborn
The mother cries the baby cries
The blood flows the earth turns
The earth doesn't stop turning
The blood doesn't stop flowing

Where's it going all this spilled blood?
Blood of the blackjacked of the humiliated
Of suicides of firing squad victims
Of the condemned
And the blood of those that die
Just like that by accident
In the street a living being goes
By with all his blood inside
Suddenly there he is, dead
And all his blood outside
And other living beings make
The blood disappear they carry the body away
But it's stubborn the blood
And there where the dead one was
Much later, all black
A little blood still stretches
Coagulated blood life's rust, body's rust
Blood curdled like milk
Like milk when it turns
When it turns like the earth
Like the earth it turns with it's milk
With it's cows with it's living
With it's dead
The earth that turns with it's trees
With it's living beings, it's houses
The earth that turns with marriages burials
Shells regiments
The earth that turns and turns and turns
With it's great streams of blood

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): PETER SCHICKELE