Chefsache [English translation]

The boss

Has a hole in his head

And there's no hair on it

If it drips out of his wound

He feels awesome

Quietly he sneaks out of the house

Disappearing behind the dark night

The one that takes the moon as land

The other didn't think about that

The water flows to the estuary

The fruit washed in the sky

In the battleground was shoot

in lustful commotion

Your boss pulls always yourself

to the battle against your female warrior

Through the libido

To the stab wound

On the battlefield

To the firing

Matter for the boss!

Split time as the passing of pain

The truth remains on the battleground

The balance leaves them unsatisfied

The fighting spirit defeats them too