New Times. New Times. New Times.
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Good morning. Good morning. Good morning.
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I'm the guard. At one time
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This was rather pleasant
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The poets they still had to muse
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Over the classicism of clean shoes
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But who today still knows a button stick
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Well, that's the new times
|
That's the new times
|
That's the new times
|
The girls would lie down before us
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First one went dancing, then behind the bushes
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Today you have to run through twenty places
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Get drunk on saccharin and methyl
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And then you still don't get them that far
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Well, that's the new times
|
That's the new times
|
That's the new times
|
Now take it easy there in the early morning
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Who arrives but the brethren from the press
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If somewhere there lies a cadaver
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Or something is foul in the state
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You can be sure that a writer is not far behind
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With his Excellency I only say:
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Hands off the literature
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The laurel wreath one gets today
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Second hand so to speak
|
>From the old Empire's stories
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Sold underhand at the Alexanderplatz
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With all the wigs and costumes
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Twitching from the shoulder one is informed
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Well, that's the new times
|
That's the new times
|
That's the new times
|
New times. New times. New times.
|
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-----------------
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New Times
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| Violent Femmes |
