Berlino Est 1980 Here there's no sea, no sun, there is no place for love Only damp cellars to make some noise under a grey dusty-cemently sky Drink my rebel fellow to your dreams Gestapo is coming with cudgels again Run to the sewer of the great formicary For you there's no tomorrow, there's no future. Records, studs, beers and whyskey, freedom will be in the last tin But shut up now ! Regime can hear us and He puts the rebels boys straight on into asylum Drink my rebel fellow to your dreams Gestapo is coming with cudgels again Run to the sewer of the great formicary For you there's no tomorrow, there's no future