Rablóhal [English translation]

Three of us in a barge,

we are rowing up,

In the back, a rumble fish,

'n in the front you and me.

In a cool bower,

sirens bow,

'n now I tend to,

leave you.

It's so unusual,

the force of habit,

Sin is just a crab-apple,

and neither does the serpent speak.

Something is burning, something burns,

Something smokes, in your eyes

the blood sparkles up.

(Chrous)

A boat rocks you on the waters of the living,

Perhaps no need to row even,

Let it drift you wherever you go,

Love, life, death.

And that's not enough,

There is an encore,

You know love is like a

concave egg.

And if a heart is deserted,

I'll swim through it in secret,

In the form of a rumble fish,

Somehow everything is so different.

(Chrous)