Based on Romania 2006
Mihai Trăistariu — Tornerò

I heard someone call out your name the other day
It sounded so strange and now I am not feeling okay
I never considered that there could be any other way
Foundations are shaking, I don't know if it's a yay or nay

[Toh-bleh-rohn], [Toh-bleh-rohn]
That's how I've said it all along
[Toh-blehr-wan], [Toh-blehr-wan]
That's how they said it, now I'm stunned

[Toh-bleh-rohn], [Toh-bleh-rohn]
I'm so confused, what's going on?
[Toh-blehr-wan], [Toh-blehr-wan]
That sounds so wrong but kinda fun

Then someone else said: hey look, the mountain's not there
The packaging's changed, I see, there's no hidden bear
Always a pleasure, when we tried to spot him in his space
Now just a logo, [dis] two words: dishonour and disgrace

[Toh-bleh-rohn], [Toh-bleh-rohn]
So now the Matterhorn is gone
[Toh-blehr-wan], [Toh-blehr-wan]
Everything's changed and I am done

But I got that taste on my mind
That nougat and chocolate delight
Triangles are cracking, memories hijacking
But I one-der how, I had never heard
Oh I one-der how, I'd never heard

[Toh-bleh-rohn], [Toh-bleh-rohn]
That's how I've said it all along
[Toh-blehr-wan], [Toh-blehr-wan]
That sounds so wrong but kinda fun

[Toh-bleh-rohn], [Toh-bleh-rohn]
Feels like I'm in the Twilight zone
[Toh-blehr-wan], [Toh-blehr-wan]
Don't care, you're still the one I want

Based on France 1960
Jacqueline Boyer — Tom Pillibi

André Claveau was my first love
Gentleman as no other
André Claveau, polite and kind
It was love at first sight
He sang me a berceuse each night
And bought me fresh red roses
Took me to picnics on weekends
But he had a defect

He was so boring, my dear André
“dors, mon amour” was all that we did in bed
I loved him dearly, but needed more
A little action
So farewell, mon amour

Viktor Klimenko (call him Vik)
was a stud like no other
Viktor Klimenko had a beard
That tickled the right way
He was near 2 meters tall
Everything in proportion
More than 9 inches of love
But he had a big flaw

He was so clumsy, my good old Vik
Such a big weapon was of no use to me
How can such blessing be so void?
What is the whole point?
So goodbye, horse hung Vik

Gustav Winckler, a saucy man
Good kisser like no other
Gustav Winckler, so passionate
He used his tongue so well
He was sexy, he was a hunk
Always made me see the stars
He just loved me, and I loved him
But there was a problem

None of these men were enough for me
None of them could give me the things I craved for
I was so empty, I felt numb
Cause who I loved was
That bitch Katy Bødtger

Based on France 2015
Lisa Angell — N'oubliez pas

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
This dug-out trench
Is disgusting

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
The Germans shelled my cup noodles at lunch

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
The smell of death fills the air
Limbs left everywhere
And there aren’t enough plugs

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
I watched my friend get dismembered
As there was nothing else better to watch

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
This is a terrible zoo
Was just some archduke
I thought they had an arch duck

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
World War, one star
Sub tour sub-par

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Why can’t we be Slovakoczechia?

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
World War, one star
Found hole in tsar

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Caught TB
Avoid Best Western Front

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
My Pickelhaube seems very small

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
One of our olives was someone’s left ball

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
I tripped on a small cross
Bad idea to plant lots
They should have just built one big one

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
World War, one star
Rubbish death march

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Trench was wet
My boots got caked in mud

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Got lost in poppy maze

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Bayonet was too sharp

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Actors all look the same
Can’t tell king/tsar apart

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Soldiers landing on beach
Ran right through my sandcastle

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
I don’t like mustard smell

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Tank got stuck in carpark

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Would you turn down those drums?
Kids are trying to sleep!

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Best to skip World War 1
And just watch 2 and 3

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Battle language was coarse

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
All instructions in Morse

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
THE WORST BUILDERS IN YPRES
HOUSE LOOKS LIKE IT’S BEEN BOMBED

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Not worth the Deutschmarks

Based on France 1993
Patrick Fiori — Mama Corsica

In tribute to - and a cover of - Fascinating Aïda's Cheap Flights

Well, my sister had set the date
Getting married, ain’t that great
Taking place in Micklethwaite

Where the fuck is that?

Google names it “Arse end of Hell”
But it’s as far as I could tell

Quite near Harrogate

Travel costs, they may be obscene!
A pop-up then fills my screen

Flights for 50 cents!

Wow, flying out from Ajaccio
And the dates, they work out too
I had to book it on the spot

Nitwit, I am not
Yeah, terms and conditions would always apply

“Brexit bonus” is
The source of the low discount price, the website says

Though an airport tax: €154 would be charged

But I did not care
For I’m the one getting my flights for just 50c

Got there on time…the agent chimed
Oh! Seems you’ve not checked-in online!
Fifty Euros, please

But it’s free: standing on the wing
No? Inside! Then you’ll need a seat
Ninety euros, please

There is this green tax we must fee
Use of our loo for poo or wee
Sixty Euros, please

I paid all of these extra costs
Queued at Gate 1993
After eight hours, we took off

But the flight went well
Still, I was concerned by the signage, which read:

“Welcome to Skegness!”
Fanfare announced we’d arrived on time, like I gave a fuck

Speakers carried on
For travellers to Micklethwaite your bus...now awaits

Once you have pre-paid
If not, it’s just £82
In cash, if you please

Damn you BrexitAir!

Fifty Cents, my arse!!

Based on Serbia 2011
Nina — Čaroban

My name’s Lina, in charge of cleaning the floor.
Thirty years cleaned the mayor’s house.
I am old, ride the bus - it gives me the creeps,
so I wanted a brand new job.

Saw the paper, it listed a promising one.
The headquarter’s in Geneva.
“Swipe the hair and the sputum right off the stage.”
Short term work and the pay is great.
Sometimes things, they don’t go our way…

I hop on the stage, I’ll Swiffer, country gets ready,
Crew say “You SHASHAY! The postcard is ending!”
But German girly brought huge stairs, got dry ice too.
How will I clean all that?

Some prick - he left without his crushed paper boatie.
“Hey, don’t leave your toy, I’m not your maid boy!”
And Denmark’s curtain looks folded and wrinkled.
What fool will iron that?

Try to sneak me a smoke when Portugal’s on.
Crew is bringing a sauna.
I go “Hvala, I’m not a big fan of the heat.”
“Questo e per la Svezia.”

And I think he is on some heavy new drug,
cause there’s no way there is such time,
to hang off curtains get the sauna on.
Such a miniscule frame of time.
But who cares, that is not my job.

People cheer me on, I take Kaj’s sausage pieces
put them in my apron, to snack on them later.
Crew say “Get ready, France is next on the big stage!”
What the fuck, is that sand?

A great performance though a bit overtrying.
Where is my Dyson, to vacuum all that sand?
The nice presenters, they go on to assist me.
“Vielen Dank, miss Sandra!” Hey!
“Hazel, hey!”

And I’m done!	Now we move on to the intervals!
*Looks confused*	Stupid, get your hands up on that broom!
What are interval acts?

Turns out I had to work two hundred more minutes.
Contract terms hidden, my exit forbidden!
And I’ll be frank; I found the props so distasteful.
Fly home to Leskovac!

“Mayor please take me back…”

Based on Luxembourg 1978
Baccara — Parlez-vous français ?

María and Mayte are enjoying their summer holiday. Lunchtime is approaching and Mayte knows that María gets hangry and can’t make decisions. Hence, Mayte has prepared accordingly. As they head towards the restaurant carefully preselected by Mayte, María is losing her patience…
 

Now, let’s move Mayte!

Come on and let’s get some food, some ribs or pasta?

Hm… (smiles) Or a crêpe, María?

You know more!

Wrong.

Did you go behind my back again and make a plan?

Hm… We’ll find food, don’t you fear. (walks to preselected restaurant)

Let’s go there maybe and see!

 

Herring with some salsa?

A pot pie with kiwi?

Bird curry?

Please hurry!

Don’t worry

I worry!

Come along, just be strong

The right bar seems (moping sounds from María) rather far, right?

Obscurely tucked away...

Let’s walk more

No, not more!

Or this joint? (points at preselected restaurant)

Yes, this joint!

True, this place may be where we belong

 

Let’s do a BBQ buffet

They serve fondue, chicken satay

A charming young waiter leads us to a table

He says his name is Carl-Hortense

 

Here at the BBQ buffet

We can eat like it’s Boxing Day

Just ignore the staring, no need for despairing

As we race through what’s on display

 

Check out that waiter, hmm, cute yet commanding

Carl-Hortense, for you I’m longing! (evil glares exchanged)

You’re a con

You’re too slow

You’re so gone

You’re a hoe

We just can’t get enough of his meat

 

Inside this BBQ buffet

A threat with abs has come our way

We don’t want to share him so now we’re declaring:

Who eats most food gets his sorbet

Let’s play!

 

María and Mayte are destroying their BBQ buffet, devouring all possible body parts of animals considered edible. Their two-hour time limit is approaching, and Mayte knows that María gets insane and can’t control herself. Hence, Mayte secretly knows she’ll win. As they are stuffing themselves, María is losing her will to live. But then they observe their hunky waiter leaving the restaurant holding hands with another man…

 

Carl-Hortense…

Are you still okay?

(whimpers)

We were such fools, all led astray

(whimpers, followed by melodic vomiting sounds)

Grab all your belongings, don’t want to prolong this

I don’t feel wanted and it hurts

 

Nothing left to say

We feel distressed beyond the pale

We try not to care but lunch has been digested

Let’s do a… Mexican buffet?

Based on Albania 2025
Shkodra Elektronike — Zjerm

I’m caught in doom and distress, feel such annoyance (Wow!)
No therapy ever could destroy that (Oh!)
Must endure intrusive thoughts, all my self-worth adds to nought
As it’s hard to get by, I’ll choose avoidance
(But please strive to get by, don’t choose avoidance!)

I’ll withdraw from it all, be no one’s burden
I’m overcome by this gloom, getting stuck, feeling little
As this cycle of despair’s beating the hell out of my head
I can’t go on – full closure’s urgent (Hopes up!)

I must gather my remaining forces
To either heal or else make life cease, but
I might miss the next me…
I shan’t miss the next me!

So even if my mind’s now fettered
Tamely surfing the unknown
I might see my life get better
Grow in all its spheres
I shall fret – still not a winner
But at least, no towel thrown
I shan’t let this voice, so inner
Recall spent tears ‘n’ fears ‘n’ jeers ‘n’ sneers

SHARE all the unsaid traumas in your head
Truth hurts, so you must push through regardless
DARE, face those demons and just persist
And hope that you will defeat them
Start reviving endured mischief
THERE, among that endless scorning and mourning
New days will come when all skewed thinking fades
And self-harm cravings are
RARE
Ditch responses like flight or freeze
For the only true chance in life is: Fight!

I must learn to deal with heavy thought trains
‘Cause that’s the key to perhaps believe that
I might meet the next me…
I shall meet the next me!

I’ll persevere in the endeavour
To recover from this low
Grind’s extreme, but it will never
Lose its bright appeal
You can spare a thought for me if
I’m found clinging to my woe…
As I dare, the world shall see if
My soul can feel ‘n’ reel ‘n’ squeal ‘n’ heal

Based on Slovenia 2019
Zala Kralj and Gašper Šantl — Sebi

Constantly supreme performance
In physics, maths, chemistry and biology
Though she scored below her classmates
Compromised because the teachers
Found presentation skills are not quite
Solid due to stifling stage fright
But this class project's set to redeem her
Never more an underachiever

While most kids made lava lamps
Saba studied sand instead
Rigorously building her dream
Academic excellence
Only way to stand out when
You're Black, nerd, and LGBT

So through nanoengineering she
Formed the insurmountable
A nineteen metre sandy arch that
Spans across the science lab
How come it did not fall?
That made no sense to them
Mesoscopic planning
Of microstructural
Alignment of shale, gypsum, quartz, chalk and glauconite

Teachers were a bit impressed
Saba sought increased success
Her endeavour had to proceed
Needing larger setup base
Denmark having little space
Had to take her work into sea

Leading sedimentary grains aground
Building an aquatic force-resistant mound

Breaching slow and steady from the tide
Visions of a sandy isle that won't subside

Was a school experiment
Geographic monument
Which she'd built for eighty-four years
Even though she beat the waves
She just couldn't fight old age
Posing threat to life-long career

Science helped her plan her death
Made her cells disintegrate
Into sand, her last fantasy
Life is thriving on her sands
Now part of the Netherlands
Far in the Caribbean Sea

Based on Greece 1989
Mariana Efstratiou — To diko sou asteri

I’m flat on my back, buried in sand,
descending, dried up is my lava.
Mind full of doubt, in disarray,
exhaling the breath once inside me.

Anxiety kicks, punches and weeps.
It clouds the stars above me, leaves a scar.
Meadows not seen, sunsets undreamed.
Vivid suns extinguished in a snap.
Impacting my soul, feelings unfold.
A metal chain of sweating and distress.
Fight with my bed, nightmares in head.
Thickening my skin seems a big task.

Like drifting astray, way into space,
my mind’s in some galaxy further.
A glimmer of hope still ushers me,
enough to distinguish the bad days.

My poem’s in smoke, words I forespoke,
they form a state of hurricane so strong.
Hard to explain, it feels mundane,
sunless days of people in a song.
The things left to do, kids to feed too.
The bills to pay and masters to obey.
Shows left to see, coffees to drink.
People that are not with us no more.

My hard life or some neighbour’s next door
burdens carried, stories left untold.
Being bled out, paper cuts.
In between a small or bigger house.

Irritating crowd of scattered thoughts
found this little place to slowly thaw.
Facing the dark of our whole,
gives a better sense of where to go.

At darkest of nights, follow the light,
of the star that shines from outer space…

Based on Belgium 2003
Urban Trad — Sanomi

Let us free ourselves from evil habitudes
Or from all immoral influences in the outside world
Come and see yourself that changing attitudes
Keep us safe from all the bad things that unfurl

Entry to where we gather is pursued now and then
Deemed important and intentions are routinely adequate
Use the rules and have fun but ignore fools if you can
Please pray hard for our immortal dear MB

It may seem the past lives on under our roof
No contemporary technology in the way we chat
All believe that man’s upheaval will fall through
During revotes on songs we already had

Until you’ve proven yourself to be true to our Text
Nod and smile as you are pulled in our collection of contests
Going through to the final in BOTY/ASF
Earning a Cowgirl Reprise in ALC

Once per year we go out, paint a town red, don’t pose a threat
No one is forced to stay up until cockcrow
Welcome to all who love ethnic songs that juries forget
Instilling happiness matters wherever we go

Take a leap of faith and join our interest group
Heed our warning for when you choose otherwise

Life will be hell when ignoring our vow, wondering how?
Use all first letters of lines to let you know
Maybe you’re scared - you can change here and now, fear and avow