Schwarz zu blau English translation
von Peter Fox

Come out of the club, it was nice
Smell of booze, I’m exhausted, it’s a nice life
Step over drunk bodies decomposing on my path
I see the rats gorging themselves in the shadows of the kebab shops

Stumble through the vomit at Kotti, junkies are dazed
Idiots are spitting everywhere, behaving badly
Scene snobs desperately searching for the scene
Pierced girls want me to read street sweeper magazines, ah

Half past five, my eyes are burning
Step on a guy who’s sleeping between dead pigeons
Hysterical girls are yelling and panicking because
There’s trouble at the corner between Tarek and Sam

Tarek says, “Shut up or I’ll hit you in the face”
Sam is scared but can’t say nothing
The red soup drips onto the asphalt
I feel sick, I close my jacket because it’s cold


Good morning Berlin, you can be so ugly
So dirty and gray
You can be so beautifully terrible
Your nights consume me
It’s probably best for me
I’ll go home and sleep it off
And while I walk through the streets
It’s slowly turning from black to blue

Tired figures in the neon light
With deep wrinkles in their faces
The early shift is silent, everyone stays to themselves
Frustration rises because the bus doesn’t come

And everywhere there’s shit, you basically have to float
Everyone has a dog but no one to talk to
I’m constantly breathing through my mouth, it’s part of my life
I feel unhealthy, need something pure against it, ah

I’ve got a pounding head, I need a drink
I’m urgently craving Baghdad’s pastries
It’s warm there, I indulge in my dreams
With Fatima, the sweet pastry seller

R&B ballads pump out of parked Benzes
End of the workday for the street gangs
A hooligan is crying in a woman’s arms
This city isn’t as tough as you think


Good morning Berlin, you can be so ugly
So dirty and gray
You can be so beautifully terrible
Your nights consume me
It’s probably best for me
I’ll go home and sleep it off
And while I walk through the streets
It’s slowly turning from black to blue

I’m exhausted and rubbing out
The dust of your streets from my eyes
You’re not beautiful and you know it too
Your panorama is messed up
You don’t even look nice from afar
But the sun is rising
And I know, whether I want it or not
That I need you to breathe