Sometime in the early Stoneage
We cried "Wir sind bereit"
We were the boys from the Opelgang
And having things are way was the goal
We wasted your time and you came with us
We were proud of this battle-cry
And none of us would have believed it
that we would at one point actually succeed
Through the years one has changed a lot
We cheat each other but not ourselves
and our innocence wasn't the only thing
that was lost as we went on
The self-appointed genuine truth-finder,
the one who today we are on the heels of,
looked for the spies among us,
the rat that the boat abandoned.
Too many television shows, too many interviews
Much too often suspiciously nice
And they ask us if it's Punk Rock
or what we would call ourselves
At times we're heroes, and sometimes thieves
Accused on the grounds of treason
On ourselves and the past
And of what we once were
And which song shall we swear to play?
It's always the old ones
How often do you want to hear "Wort Zum Sonntag"?
How long do you care to stand us?
When comes the day that you call us?
It comes the time when we've had enough
We'd like to do other songs
and your time is up
Sometimes we're heroes and sometimes thieves
after the wind revolves around
And from whichever way it comes from tomorrow,
we don't ask
We got drunk on the understanding
and are at times anti-social
We are debonair and humble
The nice boys from next door
We're prophets, we're liars
Sometimes we're fake and sometimes real
Simply forget all that shit
that people like to say about us
We are heroes, we are thieves
Accused on grounds of treason
on the idea that our golden age is dead
and that it was burried long ago
We are heroes, we are thieves
We take the grade that comes
and if you want to believe otherwise
believe in yourselves and not in us.