And your sorrows I would like to have,
You spoiled rich man.

Sunrise
Sunday morning.
There are all the many years which are not yet so far.

Be careful!
The world will find out,
There somehow always is someone
Who gets under your hat.
And everything is good

Sunday morning.
And my sorrow
It is a feeling
That I wish to spare you.

Sunrise on Sunday morning,
There are all the roads which cross one another
Until late into the night.

Be careful!
The world will find out,
There somehow always is someone
Who gets under your hat.
And everything is good.

Sunday morning
Sunday morning
Sunday morning