They found her there, behind the house,
Cloth in her mouth and lead in her body,
For two days already, she had lain there
In her most beautiful dress.
So sad it was to see her,
But just what had happened?
Poor, poor Ellen Schmitt,
Shot through the heart and you were dead.
Poor, poor Ellen Schmitt,
They found you at dawn.
In a room in the attic¹,
She gave herself to the young man,
Who was first her lover and then
Returned as her murderer.
So sad it was to see her,
Just how could all of this have happened?
Poor, poor Ellen Schmitt,
Shot through the heart and you were dead.
Poor, poor Ellen Schmitt,
They found you at dawn.
And the moral of this story:
Never travel alone, don't get lost,
If you accompany a stranger²,
You'll end up like poor Ellen Schmitt!
Poor, poor Ellen Schmitt,
Shot through the heart and you were dead.
Poor, poor Ellen Schmitt,
They found you at dawn.