| Distel (Thistle) |
|---|
| (see German original) |
| |
| I know my way in every maw |
| jumping, skipping, dashing, |
| sometimes I hit a grotty hole |
| a flower in a vase |
| |
| I come, I go, I'm fleeing, |
| but never, never can I stay |
| and when I slam a door |
| I'm leering at the next one |
| |
| Oh, if I were a thistle |
| in deserted wasteland |
| I'd be sitting in the ground |
| and dreamt that we were two. |
| |
| I doubt and cough, I burp and fester |
| my belly is in uproar |
| I dig and rut, turn every stone |
| I stray just everywhere. |
| |
| And what I find, litter, crap, |
| I shake it, bend it, turn it 'round. |
| There is no peace, I go for everything. |
| That's what plagues me on and on. |
| |
| Oh, if I were a thistle . . . |
| |
| Inside I cry for meaning, more |
| not even when I piss I'm calm |
| sometimes I think there's something, yeah, |
| 't was just a joke, me silly cow! |
| |
| And hangin' 'round with other guys |
| just gives me empty blarney talk |
| And when I give it a closer eye: |
| it's the same greed but different titties |
| |
| Oh, if I were a thistle |
| in deserted wasteland |
| I'd be sitting in the ground |
| and dreamt that we were two, |
| and dreamt that we were two. |
|