When millionaires go to sleep
Then you sing songs for them
It's so easy to overlook
When paragraphs stand up
And doors only open outwards
You will never see them again
When speculators wanna dance
Then you do the steps for them
When old houses shall yield
And trees don't want to grow anymore
Instead of wheels only tires roll
You remain the silent third one
But here, where us others are
Blows a cold wind, a cold wind
Only because we are children
Naive and blind
Here, where us others are
Blows a cold wind, a cold wind
Only because we are children
Naive and blind
In the Greeneforest is wood auction
Concrete is up and coming
But only for him who doesn't live there
Protecting his breathe somewhere else
And for that he even gets rewarded
"For his advantage" (basically; ... it's a pun on an old saying)
But here, where us others are
Blows a cold wind, a cold wind
Only because we are children
Naive and blind
Here, where us others are
Blows a cold wind, a cold wind
Only because we are children
Naive and blind