By you
Haunted by you
Hm-hm, haunted

Seagulls circling in front of the window, clouds hanging low
Painting a portrait
Hamburg like OZ
On the road to the North Sea
Grandpa fled to the city back then
Saw the gateway to the world, which was open (yes)
My license plate has been double-H since Bobbycar
Police car, Reeperbahn
Three per mille in the bloodstream
And I'm acting like a tour guide
Behind Hans-Albers and you get off
Tourists don't want to see reality
Class society, not in the middle of life
AIDS and Hepatitis C
Little kids giving each other shots
Here victims become perpetrators
You don't know it, like public transport with sea sway
No, I don't mean Hamburg like Schmidt
I'm talking about Hamburg like Thälmann
Some sleep on concrete, others ask for the suite
And neither of them deserve it

Rain jacket, pepper spray, HVV and AMG
False love, fights, hey, and our flags are waving
359, olé, olé, in Fred Perry and NB
And the whole quarter screams: "040, A.C.A.B."
Rain jacket, pepper spray, HVV and AMG
False love, fights, hey, and our flags are waving
359, olé, olé, in Fred Perry and NB
And the whole quarter screams: "040, A.C.A.B."

I've never seen Olaf here
And there has never been police violence (mh)
Just as little as drizzle
Since the guy in front of my door opened his wrists
I google houses in the country
But anything other than Hamburg is an affair
We don't become friends
Build dreams on the sand
Walking through the neighborhood
Dude, sometimes it's unbelievable what you see
The woman there pulls up a needle and shoots (shoots)
The man there plays sad music
Facades colored by Fat Caps
Live in my block on the first floor
And see from the window in the hallway
Only the last eleven years the Herberstraße (hey)
I'm on a first-name basis with almost everyone here
You know where to find me if you're looking for me
Know where I find myself (yes)
If I'm looking for myself
Some sleep on concrete, others ask for the suite
And neither of them deserve it

Rain jacket, pepper spray, HVV and AMG
False love, fights, hey, and our flags are waving
359, olé, olé, in Fred Perry and NB
And the whole quarter screams: "040, A.C.A.B."
Rain jacket, pepper spray, HVV and AMG
False love, fights, hey, and our flags are waving
359, olé, olé, in Fred Perry and NB
And the whole quarter screams: "040, A.C.A.B."

(040, A.C.A.B!)
(040, A.C.A.B!)

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES