I know I loved you then
I think I love you still
But this prophecy of ours
Has come back dressed to kill
Three stones on a mountain
Three small holes in a field
You’ve given me the big dream
But you can’t make it real
O, wicked world
Just think what could have been
Jerusalem, New York, Berlin
All I do is lose, but baby
All I want’s to win
Jerusalem, New York, Berlin
A hundred years or more
It feels like such a dream
An endless conversation
Since 1917
Now the battery is too hot
It’s burning up in its tray
Young marriages are melting
And dying where they lay
O, wicked world
Just think what could have been
Jerusalem, New York, Berlin
All I do is lose but baby
All I want’s to win
Jerusalem, New York, Berlin
Our tongues will fall so still
Our teeth will all decay
A minute feels much longer
With nothing left to say
So let them win the battle
But don’t let them restart
That genocidal feeling
That beats in every heart
O, wicked world
Just think what could have been
Jerusalem, New York, Berlin
All I do is lose but baby
All I want’s to win
Jerusalem, New York, Berlin
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