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