Lyrics:
My mother was a Chinese trapeze artistIn pre-war ParisSmuggling bombs for the underground.And she met my fatherAt a fete in Aix-en-Provence.He was disguised as a Russian cadetin the employ of the Axis.And there in the half-lightOf the provincial midnightTo a lone concertinaThey drank in cantinasAnd toasted to Edith PiafAnd the fall of the Reich.My sister was born in a hovel in BurgundyAnd left for the cattleBut later was found by a communistWho'd deserted his ranksTo follow his dreamTo start up a punk rock band in South Carolina.I get letters sometimes.They bought a plantationShe weeds the tobaccoHe offends the nationAnd they write, 'Don't be a stranger, y'hear.''Sincerely, your sister.'So my parents had meTo the disgust of the prostitutesOn a bed in a brothel.Surprisingly raised with tender care'Til the money got tightAnd they bet me awayTo a blind brigadier in a gameOf high stakes canasta.But he made me a sailorOn his brigadier ship fleet.I know every yardarmFrom main mast to jib sheet.But sometimes I long to be landlockedAnd to work in a bakery.