We all came out to Montreux
On the Lake Geneva
shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didn't have much
time
Frank Zappa and the Mothers
Were at the best place
around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the
ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
They burned down
the gambling house
It died with an awful sound
Funky Claude was
running in and out
Pulling kids out the ground
When it all was
over
We had to find another place
But Swiss time was running
out
It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water,
fire in the sky
We ended up at the Grand Hotel
It was empty
cold and bare
But with the Rolling truck Stones thing just
outside
Making our music there
With a few red lights and a few
old beds
We make a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of
this
I know we'll never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the
sky