Uh, uh, uh

Burn the youth in the backyard
Light it up and it burns brightly
Fuck the twelve into my microphone
Piccolo, Piccolo, everything here is piccobello

Small town, driveway, Daimler
Your heroes are unknown here, yeah
Streets look like in a picture book, but don't belong here like the Ritalin in my breakfast, oh
I consume, nothing to do, bada bing, bada boom
Girls act like princesses and boys act like Winnetou
Cops act like (?), feels like in Rotterdam
Because in my loot there were again some clothes (victim, yes)
And my mother asks me what I'm doing here
I know the answer, but not if I tell her
I don't think I'm good for anything
I taste bitter and smoke poison

Burn the youth in the backyard
Light it up and it burns brightly
Fuck the twelve into my microphone
Piccolo, Piccolo, everything here is Piccolo
Burn the youth in the backyard
Light it up and it burns brightly
Fuck the twelve into my microphone
Piccolo, Piccolo, everything here is piccobello

Small town, simply none of my friends have their license anymore
Get another beer from the gas station
Meet drunk relatives again
Not fallen on the mouth, but still land on the nose
Parents took the end, (?), even if not
With a hundred options to choose from, if only I had some
And I don't know what it is
But my Nikes are ripped again
Because I'm usually pretty drunk
And only have Heinekens in sight (Oh, yeah)
Yes, nothing has changed, it was always like this
Because I park my future halfway in the backyard

Burn the youth in the backyard
Light it up and it burns brightly
Fuck the twelve into my microphone
Piccolo, Piccolo, everything here is Piccolo
Burn the youth in the backyard
Light it up and it burns brightly
Fuck the twelve into my microphone
Piccolo, Piccolo, everything here is Piccolo

(Piccolo-o-o-o-o)
Everything here is Piccolo (yes, yes, oh-oh, yeah)
Everything here is Piccolo

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES