When I first showed up in Deutschland, camping on the Rhine
The first town that I went to was also the first sign
Of the kind of self-reflection that had gone on around here
Indications everywhere, so shiny and so clear
Look down at the sidewalk where a little light is shown
When you stumble upon a stumbling stone

What did this place once look like, who lived on this block
It can’t be recreated but you can partially take stock
Look down at the sidewalk for a little bronze square
Read the words engraved upon it that says who was living there
Before they were taken away to the dark unknown
Stumble upon a stumbling stone

Little squares all over, you’ll find them all around
Not much information on them, and they don’t make a sound
But if your imagination is anything like mine
Then all you need to trigger it is one lone Stolpersteine
Take a moment to remember as you look down from your phone
Stumble upon a stumbling stone

There are six little squares here – one for each member
Of one family that was taken one morning in December
The youngest child was 2, the eldest one was 10
Within a year each one of them had died at Sachsenhausen
Their bodies burnt to ashes – flesh and blood and bone
Stumble upon a stumbling stone

And every time I see them I wish I would see more
Embedded in the sidewalks on so many other shores
Just one stone to remember each one who met their fate
At all the slave plantations, in all the torture states
But for some it’s safer to just leave the dead alone
Stumble upon a stumbling stone