(Walter Mehring/Gordon Gano)



New times, new times, new times

Good morning, good morning, good morning



I'm the guard

At one time this was rather pleasant

The poets they still had to muse

Over the classicism of clean shoes

But who today still knows a button stick



CHORUS

Well, that's the new times

That's the new times

That's the new times



The girls would lie down before us

First one went dancing, then behind the bushes

Today you have to run through twenty places

Get drunk on saccharin and methyl

And then you still don't get them that far



CHORUS



Now take it easy there in the early morning

If somewhere there lies a cadaver

Or something is foul in the state

You can be sure that a writer is not far behind

With his Excellency I only say

Hands off literature

The laurel wreath one gets today

Second hand so to speak

>From the Empire's stores

Sold underhand at the Alexanderplatz

With all the wigs and costumes

Twitching from the shoulder one is informed



CHORUS



New times, new times, new times

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