9010 English translation
von Kummer

We ran across the streets, carried by adrenaline
Ran fast like rabbits, but we were never faster than cars
Born to be victims/losers, time to understand
That where we live, people like us just take blows

Calling an ambulance, with blood in the mouth
Using the phone light to look for the knocked out tooth on the asphalt
It was never a fight, we always just ran
You were imposing, shoulders like a closet, confident gait

The rules were different for you, you're strong, you're allowed this
I never asked myself what made you this hard
Nowadays you look different, years have passed
I almost didn't recognize you, standing at the gas station

Plastic bag, corn schnapps, Westpoint-cigarillos, bad skin
Chemnitz city swag, everything looks kind of sad
I would have thought I'd be happy to see you like this
Karma fucks back, kind of beautiful, but nothing is beautiful


I would like to point a finger at you
Look at him, that stupid piece of shit
But no, now after all this time
After all these years I suddenly feel bad for you

I would like to point a finger at you
I would like to laugh at you
But no, no feeling of triumph
Not even a tiny bit of revenge for me

First they threw you out of the fight studio, you were too extreme, even for them
Then you lost your job, later a few years in prison
Then came alcohol and drugs, you became a burden
Even though you'd sworn each other "nothing before the brotherhood"

But suddenly none of your brothers stood by you
The memories of you and the past, simply tattooed over
Erased, overwritten, for the buddies you loved
You're nothing more than a dark point in their biography

And they don't like talking about this phase in their life
That's why they don't greet you, wenn they see you in the street
Back then you were "taking action", back then you were "beating ticks" [leftists]
Back then you made 16 year olds eat the curb


Now your own teeth are falling out, glassy eyes, the smell of beer
Nowadays nobody gets harrassed by you, nobody is afraid of you anymore
They're more afraid for you, how you sit, drunk to the limit
Under the neon light gas station advertisements

I would like to point a finger at you
Look at him, that stupid piece of shit
But no, now after all this time
After all these years I suddenly feel bad for you

I would like to point a finger at you
I would like to laugh at you
But no, no feeling of triumph
Not even a tiny bit of revenge for me