Under the dirty sky that cried from boredom,
Under the little rain that fell on him,
Him... the Berlin man...
In the old suburb, in the middle of the night,
He stood there. I saw nothing but him,
Him... the Berlin man...
Stranger to Berlin, where I just arrived,
When we don't wait for nothing anymore,
When we want to change everything,
Berlin is worth Berlin.
Me, I don't need much to believe, in life,
That everything can change, so why not him?
Him... the Berlin man...
I already saw myself loving him for a lifetime.
I was starting everything over, it was with him.
Him... the Berlin Man...
Don't talk of luck,
Of sky, or of fatality,
Of upcoming return, or of hope,
Of destiny, or of eternity.
Don't talk of Berlin
Because Berlin is nothing for me,
Don't talk of Berlin,
Even though Berlin, is everything for me.
Under the dirty sky that cried from boredom,
Under the little rain that fell on him,
Him... the Berlin man...
I took him for love, he was a passerby,
An eternity in few moments,
Him... the Berlin man...
Because him, the Berlin man, he sought to forget too.
He left for too far away
Because, to use his life,
There's not only Berlin.
In every faces, I see nothing but him
And, every night, I sleep with him,
Him... The Berlin man...
Under the dirty sky, he spends his life
And in which Berlin will he spend his life,
Him... the Berlin man ?
But there is not only one man in this damn country !...
Here or elsewhere...
There's not only him...
There's not only him...
There's not only him...
There's not only him...
Not only him... only him... him...