97 Tage [English translation]

We see each other in a café,

drinking together is passe.

You pass by me and ask,

"How's it going?"

The answer is:

I write songs,

about you in general and how you laugh. You laugh.

Since our end 97 days ago I'm directions without a destination.

The story of the new guy,

that you entrust me with,

won't put me off track. [lit: Won't throw me out of the train]

It comes too late again!

They're only empty words for me: That was it!

Again a life with fun after the "That was it!"

You talk about great love,

like that written about in the Bild. [newspaper like the national enquirer]

We were once Bonny and Clyde.

Now you have Ronny.

I feel sorry for you.

Once we were one,

now you're telling me about sex.

We used to be partners in crime, [lit: we use to steal horses together]

now you're riding him.

Maybe he drinks his coffee just like me.

But only I can sing,

that your laughter enchants me like nothing else.

Exactly 97 days ago I felt a deep hole in my chest.

Naked heart, a gaping wound and you stuck your finger in it,

talking about the good old days.

I have only two words for you:

That was it.