"I wrote this little song in the spring of '41. Hit it, boys!"
Dum dum dedum dum dum
"Ooooo let's stop fighting the Germans right away
and listen to what Hitler has to say
we should go tell Hirohito
that to serve him would be neato
'cuz you know that we can't beat him anyway, doobittydooo!"
Then, when Conan freaked out about the lyrics, he said,
"That's quite an Irish temper you got there! Ya know, I wrote a song about the Irish, it goes something like this, hit it boys!"
dum dum dedum dum dum
"Oooooh the Irish they have brains that're made of ham
and they smell bad but they just don't give a damn
they're drunken rotten scum
they just drink up all our rum
so they can puke all over Uncle Sam, doobittydoo!"
Ahh, the '40s!