Clothing is against God, we're wearing figue leaf,
swinging on lianas over Heinrichplatz,
and the elders are telling stories from the squatters' fight
at the barbecue in the ruins of the Deutsche Bank.
Bird nests in the holes of illuminated advertisements,
we are warming up with burning Germany flags,
and if a guy is sleeping on a park bench
then only because a girl is leaning on his arm.
Three hours work a day because we don't need more than that,
tonight we come up with names for stars,
say thank you for this bomb from 10 years ago
and make love till the sun can see us.
Do you remember when we were scratching into the tables in school 'Please Lord don't forgive them, 'cause they know what they do.'
Under the cobblestones, the beach,
if not with rap, then with the pumpgun.
And we're singing in the fallout shelter,
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
And we're singing in the fallout shelter,
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
Take bow and arrow, we're hunting down a delicacy,
there's no more jail and we're having barbecue on prison bars.
Burnt-out McDonalds bear witness to our heroic deeds,
since we chased Nestlé off the fields
the apples taste like apples and the tomatoes like tomatoes,
and we're cooking our food in the soldiers' helmets.
You want to smoke one? Go pick some in the garden
but our life of today, you can also bear it with a sober mind.
Let's go, we have a race with office-chairs in the moss-covered halls of the Reichstag.
Our house doors don't need to have locks,
money was turned to confetti and we slept better,
a gold bar is the same as a brick to us,
the chimney is dying down, throw in another bible,
the kids are scard because I'm telling stories about the Pope,
this life is so beautiful, who needs an afterlife?
(who needs an afterlife?)
And we're singing in the fallout shelter,
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
And we're singing in the fallout shelter,
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
The cows are grazing behind us, we're smoking pot, play Tavla, where Potsdamer Platz used to be.
When I get up, I caress your hair one more time,
"Babe, I'm off to work, I'll be right back."
We get up when we want to, travel around when we want to, we look as we want to, have sex like we want to
and not like the church or porn is telling us.
Baby, the time with you was so beautiful,
yes, now it's over, but the kids aren't crying
because we are all raising them together.
Do you still remember when they tried to turn off the great fire?
That feeling when our passports were melting in the flames;
they really thought their shit was made forever.
I'm showing the kids 'Monopoly' but they don't get it:
"A 100€ bill? What's that supposed to be?
Why should I take something from you if we're sharing everything?"
And we're singing in the fallout shelter,
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
And we're singing in the fallout shelter,
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
"Hurrah, this world goes under!"
On the ruins – paradise.