Die letzte Tröte [English translation]

"Deny the masses the music!"

Spoke the king full of rage

Instead they should worship his

Pride and his courage in silent devotion

So word was out in the country

The henchmen were brutal and crude

And every instrument which one found

Soon burned ablaze

But they did not find my trumpet

I stood there, played my songs

The people crowded around me

We headed out, got them back again

Oh how should we sing about true heros?

Oh, spend the night with wine and woman?

Oh, in the court rules revolution!

Oh, one has stolen us the music!

The trumpet resounds through dark alleys

They come out from everywhere

The people who hate silence

Gather in front of the castle gate

The king's cast - a tinderbox

Circled by human masses

And on the throne sits pale

The king and feels abandoned