Based on Bulgaria 2026
DARA — Bangaranga

Reach that star
My Jenga tower will go far
I will always raise the bar
Come and see my wonder

Build it high
I’ll make it rise up to the sky
I’ve got talent, I won’t lie
And it’s all because I

I, I, I, I got my Jengafing-

Jengafinger, Jengafinger, Jengafinger
Got my Jengafing-
Jengafinger, Jengafinger, Jengafinger
Got my Jengafing-

Wave goodbye
Make the Eiffel Tower cry

I, I, I, I got my Jengafing-

(Cause I) Got my Jengafing-

Record-holders? I will chase them
I play Jenga, to erase ’em
I’m my finger, when I flick it
I don’t tinker, when I jig it
Add one to the, to the top
Poke another block
You’ve got, you’ve got butterfingers, hun’
I would leave you stun’d

All thumbs-trash
Would make my Jenga tower crash
That’s why it’s a solo dash
Just me and my finger

I, I, I, I got my Jengafing-

Jengafinger, Jengafinger, Jengafinger
Got my Jengafing-
Jengafinger, Jengafinger, Jengafinger
Got my Jengafing-

Time to fly
Burj Khalifa’s dream will die

By my Jengafing-

By my Jengafing-

(Cause I) Got my Jengafing-

Down at the base, I can feel it wobble
Less skillful fingers would make it topple
But I, I
I’ve got a sniper’s eye, eye

With my Jengafing-

Jengafinger, Jengafinger, Jengafinger
With my Jengafing-
Jengafinger, Jengafinger, Jengafinger
With my Jengafing-

Ask me why
And the answer’s “Why not?”

I’m on Red Bull, when I Jenga
I’m so hyper, a viper
When I knock one, knock one out
Put it up on top
Every turn I’ll choose another block and poke it out

With my Jengafing-

With my Jengafing-

With my Jengafing-

*CRASH*

Based on United Kingdom 2025
Remember Monday — What the Hell Just Happened?

Twenty twenty-two
It started out so well but
Ferrari, all in red, would soon be blue
Always spinning, never winning
Charles Leclerc’s like:

What the hell, Verstappen?!
What the hell just happened?!
That’s why no one likes you

Broke a wheel, lost a wing, scraped the paint
When he drove straight into my rear
Oh, what a clown, I don’t know how on earth
He’s had a number one career
Look, there’s no doubt:
He refuses to keep it clean
Causes controversy

What the hell, Verstappen?!
What’s up with this madman?!
Forced me off the track, unprovoked attack
Lost it all in 2 0 2 2
Watch your back, Verstappen
I’ll do better next year…

What a mess, we regressed, so much stress
No progress, got stuck in first gear
Him, he had pace, that smug face won every race
And me? Just sweat and tears 💦
Feeling I’d rather have been dead, oh
Wishing that my car wasn’t red, oh
Thinking I want to punch his lights out

Wait!
Huh.
What just happened…?

📱
WhatsApp from Verstappen

Now I’m at Verstappen’s
(Wow)
Let’s just see what happens…
(Who knew?)
It’s crazy but it’s true
Says he thinks I’m cool
And he likes me that way – woo-hoo!
(Only one thing to do)

Maybe soon we’ll meet again
Spraying our champagne
In the cockpit or pit lane?

Now I’ve had Verstappen
I’m starting to like him…

Based on Ireland 1999
The Mullans — When You Need Me

So, love is never easy
But being lonely’s worse
I got back in the game
For a man who I could tame

Then, online, I found him
A sexy slavic man
Could just sit there on that face
And I had a master plan

And there he was, my knight, and so much more
But then his smile vanished in the door

“Libe no! Dear God no!
Special girl for me, don’t you know??
Libe dear, listen here
Scented candles, libe dear
They’re my peeve
You should’ve known
нос е крив…”

Fast I quenched the candles
Felt so stupid too
But then when I apologized
His eyes showed love enough for two

They say the way to seduce
The hearts of hunky men
Is to conquer their tastebuds
For this stud I cooked lots

“Libe no! Ew yuck NO!
Special girl for me, don’t you know??
Libe dear, listen here
Coriander, libe dear
That’s my peeve
Гнусно!”

With nothing left to loose, I dragged him in
Bared my cheeks, to plant him in-between

“Libe no! Libe NO!!!
Special girl for me, don’t you know??
Libe dear, listen here
Squeaky bedframes, libe dear
They’re my peeve”
Dear Dobromir
You’re my peeve

Based on Germany 1982
Nicole — Ein bißchen Frieden

With baby blue eyes and gold-coloured curls
A radiant smile and teeth whiter than pearls
Natural makeup, a black and white dress
The dark truth you’d never guess

Her sweet appearance is all but sincere,
inspired by Siegel, the great puppeteer,
If you listen closely, it’s all crystal clear
Her message spreads hate and fear

I spit on children, I spit with gusto
I cough and rattle, it’s almost ammo
To spit on children is up-and-coming
It is rewarding, so join the team

I’m scaring children, I make them suffer
I’m pulling pranks on the little fuckers
To scare the children while they were sleeping
enhanced my feeling of ecstasy!

Resembling an angel, she almost looks real
A voice that can comfort, a smile you could steal
But she has no shadow, her thumb leaves no print
She’s payback for our sins

I swear at children, they’re so annoying
I call them names and walk past them groaning
To swear at children is so fulfilling
My favorite hobby, it brings me joy

I’m teasing children, those little critters
They should be grateful that I don’t hit them
Harassing children is an obsession
Yet torture is still one step too far

(She scares our children, she makes them suffer)
Spit with me, you’ll feel complete
(So parents please take them undercover)

(She pranks our children, bad sense of humour)
Scrape your throat and spit excrete
(We fiercely wish that she’d disappear)

(She swears at children, her anger’s boiling)
Spit with me, it feels so sweet
(Our actions so far were disappointing)

(She spits on children, let’s poke her eyes out)
Such a treat, spit and repeat
(Let’s strike her head with that white guitar)

Based on Belgium 1969
Louis Neefs — Jennifer Jennings

London streets lacked special fashion in their shops
Just endless rows of boring tops, then one May
A French King gave a new venture a dry run
Reselling clothing from ’01, ready to buy

His first display: Erica Jennings
Billowing sleeves, pants with glittery thighs
A smash! Earnings unending

This shop gave Bilal Hassani a way
To pay for his musée

Feeling brave, he coupled Swedish pleather tat
With Vanna’s backing singer’s hat:
Crowds all raved
Nuša D’s S&M wasp décolleté
Paired with a Polish coat of hair
And Nino’s shades

Soon Dutch Michelle’s breathable leggings
Were gracing catwalks from Linz to Lusail
Jumpsuits at every wedding
Yet there’s a sad end to this couture tale:

Bilal went bust, recklessly spending
Procuring stock that nobody would buy
Skamp wigs, no longer trending
For Lindsay’s tracksuits, no takers today
No way

Haldor Lægreid?
Sedat Yüce?
No profit made 🙁

Based on Austria 1968
Karel Gott — Tausend Fenster

Barbecue downstairs, it smells divine
They call my name, but I must decline
My neighbours don’t know why
They must think I’m cross, or impolite

Hear my upstairs neighbours torture me
Their sweet young girl dribbling like Kareem
I can’t request she’d quit
Cannot ring their bell, door’s out of reach

For I’m house-arrested, electronic ankle tag
In a flat that’s facing north in Plzeň 1
I just wanted velvet padding for my comfy chair
Now for two years haven’t seen the sun

Quality’s a must, though hard to find
No junk from Wish, only Czech design
But velvet.cz
Had no prime grade trim, nude girls instead

North Korean bots sneaked in from there
Then unbeknownst, I spread ransomware
Next, SWAT in evening time
Cuff me scared and knelt, suspect of crime

Since then, house-arrested, living hell without a charge
And my tag won’t let me doze, it beeps all night
I’d find prison better, least there’s human action there
It feels truly Kafka wrote my life

Based on Denmark 1984
Hot Eyes — Det’ lige det

Rain taps on the window.
Poor Alice stares in dread.
The tea’s gone cold, the Queen is mad
’Cos Tweedledum has been found dead.
A knock then shatters the silence.
Who dares to enter now?
It’s Tweedledee, with bloody hands,
And guilt etched on his brow.

Oh! Tweedledee has just killed Tweedledum.
And Mirrorland is in a state of crisis.
Fraternal feud, a toy-time quarrel
Descended into brotherly war.
An evil deed that shook the world to its core.
A tragedy that sent the chessboard manic.
And if the old Red King should awake,
The world will disappear.

While Alice grips her teacup,
She sips with trembling grace.
She’s seen a knight fall off his horse,
But murder is a brand new case.
She asks, “Was it with the rattle?”
‘Dee nods and starts to sob:
“I only meant to twat him once. But then I couldn’t stop.”

Oh! Tweedledee has just killed Tweedledum,
And Mirrorland is in a state of crisis!
‘Dee spilled the beans, a full confession,
He’s facing the full weight of the law!
Humpty Dumpty threw himself off the wall,
He’s now just shell and yolk, it’s oh-so tragic.
And if the old Red King should awake,
The world will disappear.

She peers more closely, carefully spying,
It appears all is not as it seems.
The twin sat right before her is lying…
He swapped their collars. Dastardly scheme!

Poor Tweedledee!!!!

The perpetrator was in fact Tweedledum.
And Mirrorland is on the brink of cracking.
A stolen name, a grand deception.
The whole world’s heading for its downfall.
The White Queen shrieks, she can’t take any more!
She’s now a sheep and runs away. Sheer panic!
Because the old Red King starts to wake,
The dream now disappears!

Based on France 1969
Frida Boccara — Un jour, un enfant

My shoes are never washed
I just love the smell of trash
Scrubbing has for long been quashed
Done with all that big pharma

No sponge may do to me
What all people enjoy to see
Killing all germs on my feet
Argh, what pitiful karma

Oppressed by all
Who want me to be laundered
They’ll lock me in a cell
Forcing me to bathe

I want them all to go
That is what I would prefer
That one dawn I am alone
With my disgusting feet and fur

Confession time
This song is a distraction
Into your house I’ve gone
I’ve thrown out your sponge

I’m not a monster, nay
Now you are with me to stay
Soon your feet are soiled and pure
May we not ever wash our shoes

Based on Belgium 2017
Blanche — City Lights

Cartwheel in, glumly honk my nose
Frightened kids hide behind their dads
The magician got sick with gout
Last resort, it’s the clown they call

See this handkerchief?
Pull, there’s another nine
Flower squirts when squeezed
My vodka inside
Kids’ parties could use wine

Ran away from a broken home
Led astray by a circus man
No-one asks how’s the birthday clown
They just want me to juggle balls

Never felt so free
I’d go where the circus went
He was 22
Our love was… intense
And usually in tents

Go away kid, I need a smoke
Getting nothing from my arm patch
No balloons kid, I’m all worn out
Fine, I’ll make you a fucking dog

Wish I could leave this job behind
But someone’s out there still to find
I could have had a different life

Painting faces, kids look forlorn
Got distracted, made them look sad
Every gig, I scan through the crowds
For the child always in my thoughts

Got knocked-up at 14 years old
Gave my girl to an acrobat
Broken heart beats within this clown
But there’s no-one to hear me talk
Of my troubles

I’m just Bubbles

Based on United Kingdom 1985
Vikki — Love Is

I left today the castle
That I own in Basel
It’s falling down, a wreck in town
But a sign of prestige

I put my new blue dress on
And I attach a ribbon
Looks like Gaultier but I sewed it myself
Can’t wear clothes off-the-shelf

Because others’ perception
Of my perfection, is my yearn to go on

Posh entails having, on the beach, a cabin
While struggling to pay, for your small flat, the rent
Posh means spending, in Rome, every weekend
Money I can’t dispend
Posh involves driving a new Aston Martin
Bought it ninth-hand, can’t even fill the fuel tank
That’s what posh means

See this chair I brought here
I bought it cheap last year
Told it’s antique, that sounds so chic
Producers bit the bait

Cause it’s the way that you sell
Yourself as well as the narrative you tell

Posh entails dancing as if you were fencing
Left hand on the dress, I just can’t make a mess
Posh’s wearing jewels, so massive and flashy
That are cheap and trashy
Posh is the make-up that makes you a pin-up
And enough hairspray to pollute the whole Poole Bay
That’s what posh is

Posh is the feeling that you’re a top being
Don’t care for the rest, can treat them like a pest
Posh’s ostentation, buy people’s affection
To feel complete and whole
Posh is pretending, it’s bluffing and feigning
A strategy to mask one’s insecurities
That’s what (that’s what) that’s what posh is