In former times everything was better,
In former times everything was good.
Things were still held together,
The revolution still had rage.
In former times, always hearing about former times,
I don't want to hear about it anymore.
Things weren't all that different back then.
I am not sixty years old yet,
And I'm not close to it.
And only then will I tell,
how things were in former times.
As long as Johnny Thunders lives,
so long as I remain a Punk.
As long as there is something to drink
persist our celebrations!
(Hey Johnny, can you hear us?
We will not forget you.
We will tell everyone of you,
so that your name lives on eternally.)
As long as I can find two friends
We will pull through the streets
As long as the surfers slander us,
I know that there is nothing better.
I am not sixty years old yet
And I'm not close to it.
And only then will I tell,
how things were in former times.
I will always pull through my life loudly,
each day in each year.
And if I am all that different,
I don't really give a shit.
No newspaperboy will ever instruct us,
what is old and what's brand new.
For this reason, he will achieve respect at the most
of a dog who pisses on the trees.
In the end we sit down,
And nobody in the world is different than one another.
We understand now better than ever,
This will come only if we want it to.
We are not sixty years old yet
And we are not close to it.
And only then will we tell,
how things were in former times.
We will always pull loudly through life,
each day in each year.
And if we are all that different.
We don't really give a shit.