Mask and deposit 2

While those up there laugh with champagne,

grandmas search for empty bottles in the night and break them.

Pensioners count cents for bread, which is getting more expensive,

while millionaires can afford an even more expensive jet, awesome.

Children go to bed hungry, their plates empty,

in the Bundestag they debate who wants more privileges, more.

They grin at the camera, teeth white as porcelain,

while outside the soup kitchen line is up – that's the plan.

Politics is a mask, underneath the flesh rots,

every second sentence a lie, every third hypocritical speech.

Alcohol stays cheap so we drink instead of screaming,

every four years an election – just a show to calm us down, gag us, enslave us.

Freedom of speech? A fairy tale for the truly naive,

if you tell the false truth, you quickly find yourself in trouble, they cut you down.

"Democracy"—a nice word for a display case,

inside sits a handful of idiots who take us for fools, raking in the cash.

Poor Germany, crashing in the throes of prosperity,

throwaway mentality—humanity and dignity too.

Other countries have less, yet their people smile genuinely,

here everyone's chasing after more, more, more—and nobody notices the flaw.

Politics is a mask, underneath the flesh rots,

every second sentence a lie, every third hypocritical rhetoric.

Collecting deposit bottles while those up there celebrate,

we're the fodder—and they laugh because we still allow it, we fools, we cowards.

I'm not proud, say it loud, without regret,

this country is suffocating on its own lies.

Ruled by clowns in tailored suits and ties,

who sell us the idea that black is white – and we obediently nod, the sheep.

Throwaway society, discarded honor,

the last ones still fighting are pensioners with an empty deposit bottle bag in the cold.

Germany, wake up – or continue to die drunk and in the glow,

the mask will fall eventually… and then we'll see what truly remains:

Nothing.