Deine Lakaien

There are no birds to sing the forbidden song,
There are no books to tell, where we all come from.
The old man can tell us of the ancient days,
We must not listen to him, we must be on our way...
"Heya Heya Ho", we walk along the Rhine,
when the rain may fall or when the sun may shine.
"Heya Heya Ho", we leave the death behind,
to where the air is clean, to where the water is fine
We see the ruins of Cologne in a winter night,
All the gates are closed, no way to get inside.
The machine-guns bark, as we pass the walls,
Oh we must leave this place, oh we must hurry on...