Friends Romans, countrymen Think of Italy! Brothers, mothers, bastard sons We're all family Mutes and deaf and hard of hearing Even sacristy Hold me close instead of fearing I am the ditty Duce, Duce Coochie Duce Coochie Man What choices are there left? There's none that I can see I hate to see you so bereft You've got to vote for me Duce, Duce Coochie Duce Coochie Man Let me lead you to a tunnel of love We'll find there what we're dreaming of I'll make the trains all run on time I'll drain the Pontine Marsh Believe me, it will work out fine Life won't be so harsh Duce, Duce Coochie Duce Coochie Man Let me lead you to a tunnel of love We'll find there what we're dreaming of