The old man is dead
The old man is dead
The old man is dead

It was beetle number 607
Who tweaked him in the ass:
"time to go to bed!"
The old man is dead

Decorations on red velvet
Medals of world war one of the great war
Sweets to die for
Remedy for his tired head
Fountain of youth
Melted in lead
The old man is dead

World war two was not of his taste
The parvenue talked too loud
Cut potatoes with his knife
Ate the fish with a knife
Yet the hunting came alive
Yet the killing did revive
The old man is dead

Words like silver columns
In fron tof an empty temple
Wisdom of a warhead
By the grace of his godhead
Yet the days are long verweht
Und jetzt, kleiner krieger ist es spät
Time to go to bed
The old man is dead