Текст и перевод песни BAP - Weiste noch (live, 1983: vom Album "Bess demnähx")

Weiste noch (live, 1983: vom Album "Bess demnähx")

Dä kleine Jung do, met singer Labberledderbotz un dämm Facon-Schnitt, dä leider hinge vill ze koot.
Met singem Frotteehemp, dä Nylonsocke un dämm Vüürkreechsrad ahn su 'nem Sommernommedaach vüürm Panorama singer hillije Stadt.
Dä die Wajons zällt vun dä Jüterzöch op der Südbröck.
Hätt off sing Rad jähn en dä Ring jeschmesse – drop, em Bremserhüsje weg.
Ah – weißte noch?
Mann, he dat Photo, om Balkon vum Onkel Fritz, em Sonndaachsahnzoch, luhr wie dä ärme Kääl do setz.
Enjeklemp zwesche Kaffeedesch un singer huhtoupierte Tant, vun der 'e nie begriffe hätt, wiesu jraad die nu jetz met ihm verwandt.
Mir dunn noch hück de Uhre wieh, wenn ich draan denke ahn dä Pissverzäll, die Non-Stop- Heuchel-Litanei un dat jekeifte Imponierjebell.
Doch he: Martina!
Mensch, woor ich scharf op dich – bloß ich woor Luff für dich, häss einfach durchjeluhrt durch mich.
Jetz, wo'sch dat Klassenphoto sinn, bild ich mir en, et rüsch sujar noh dir.
Do rochs wie'n Mischung domohls zwesche Wrigley's Spearmint-Gum un 8 x 4.
Met dingem lange blonde Zopp un dingem blaue Karo-Falderock woors do die Göttin vun der Zwirnerstrooß un övverhaup vum janze Block.
Oh, all dä Weihrauch he, ming Kommunionskääz en dä Hand. "
Der schönste Daach en dingem Lewe", hatten se jesaat.
Doch, dat die Nummer he en Fint woor, hatt ich janz jefährlich em Urin, un ussjerechnet ahn dämm wieße Sonndaach jing mer en Saach nimieh uss'em Sinn.
Ein met Martina un met Jüterzöch un irjendjet met vill Jeföhl, ein ohne jede Jarantie, met der mer stolz setz zweschen alle Stöhl.

Remember (live, 1983: from the album "Bess demnähx")

The little boy over there, with his snotty nose and that pudding bowl haircut, that unfortunately was cut way too short.
With his terrycloth shirt, his nylon socks and his pre-war bike on such a beautiful summer day in front of the panorama of his holy city.
That counts the wagons of the freight trains on the Südbröck.
He has just thrown his bike into the ring – right into the brake house.
Oh – remember?
Man, that photo, on Uncle Fritz's balcony, suits on Sundays, look how the poor guy is sitting there.
Squeezed in between the coffee table and his bouffant aunt, whom he never understood why she was related to him now.
My ears still hurt today when I think about the pissing stories, the non-stop hypocrisy litany and that yelping show-off bell.
But he: Martina!
Man, I was crazy about you – but I was air to you, just looked right through me.
Now, when I look at the class photo, I imagine it's even rustling towards you.
It smells like a mixture of Wrigley's Spearmint gum and 8 x 4 back then.
With your long blonde braid and your blue checkered skirt, you were the goddess of Zwirnerstrasse and, in general, of the whole block.
Oh, all the incense here, my communion candle in my hand. "
The most beautiful day of your life", they had said.
But, that this number was a trick, I had very dangerously in my urine, and on that white Sunday, one thing wouldn't get out of my mind.
One with Martina and with freight trains and something with lots of feeling, one without any guarantee, with which I proudly sit between all the chairs.