There's no infinite reckoning in this eternal line
No deeper meaning beckoning in this runic design
So folk me Amadeus
One more time
My children were fair and wore stars in their hair
Now they're bald, watch tv and buy new age cd's
The unicorn's a horse on whom some sad bastard
Has superglued a horn of plastic
In this post-everything world it still pains me girl
To spell it out for you
The Celtic skirl of Alan Stivell
Might as well be Cotton-Eyed Joe
Put it flat on the floor with a four/four beat
Add Monsieur Oiseau
Tragedy, Celtic tragedy
I lost myself in London, Paris, San Francisco
So folk me Amadeus
To Celtic tragedy disco
The druids were bullies
On mushrooms and brew
Selling mind-bending moonshine to suckers like you
To undermine it all, it's a bill of snake oil
I wish the myths were true, but you should be so lucky
Roots? schmoots! you should know by now
It's the electronic age, not the Jurassic
Gypsy schmipsy you're all just as tipsy
As Tiny Tim tripping on acid
Your Celtic moonshine is J. Authur Rank
The Incredible String band is banned from my republic
King Authur is laughing all the way to the bank
Muscle men in thongs all oiled up and bronzed swing their prongs to battle a horrible bong from the execreble gong
Tragedy, Celtic tragedy
I lost myself in Tokyo and San Francisco
So folk me Amadeus
To Celtic tragedy disco
The world is superflat now but ironies abound
Transcendence isn't dead it just went deeper underground
Within this no infinity
Infinity is found
The lack of deeper meaning is getting deeper all the time
Cotton-Eyed Joe may just be joke-folk-techno
But tonight it had me crying
So folk me Amadeus one more time
Tragedy, Celtic tragedy
I lost myself in Marrakesh and San Francisco
So folk me Amadeus
To Celtic tragedy disco