Jailbird

Whether you're sitting in your Mitte club
Listening to jazz that's okay
Or on a leather couch
Flipping channels like they were
Burgers at BK
Like the hundreds that have sprung up in your city galore—
Oh, America, we love you (and if you say it in German, even more!)
Let me tell you the story of a girl, muchacha
Ladki, puttita, fraulein
Who got arrested in Berlin on August the 3rd, 2011
That morning for breakfast she made some eggs
With assistance from a Mr. providing crème fraische
Yeah now you know how that housewife's breakfast was banging
'cause her hands banged the eggs while her teeth banged her teeth
While the oven doors banged her knees
While her right thigh banged her left
While her husband
Banged her

I lovingly convert all curses into blessings across time and space

And so she stepped out to buy a phone and steal some shoes alone
Without the man who taught her how to own
Every corporate fucking store, home-grown
Like Kaisers and Netto and Backman
Activ-Markt, Rossman and Schlecker
Fich Dich, you think I'm rambling on about those menna
Nah, I'm just talking about one man, the MAN, motherfucker!
Spatis are alright, don't rob from the Turks
German polizei, however, are jerks
They took her down to a cell in Tempelhof
Handcuffed like a hoe from Mariendorf
They thought they could have the last laugh
When those burly hands grabbed her little ones all tough
You stopped, tapped, cussed
Detained and demeaned her
Don't you think three hours is just enough?
Instead you send her to an overnight cell
Where every Soviet, Arab, Jew rang that fucking bell
To await his turn for an exit to expel
Urine or his mother's childhood warning spell
'Whatever you do, don't go to jail.' X2

I lovingly convert all curses into blessings across time and space

Yeah, she spent twenty-four hours in an East Berlin cell
Where fluorescent light is considered torture from hell
And if you'd like to get a drink to quell that undying thirst
You must first, ring that bell
'Eeeeeeee'
'Wasser Bitte'
And what do you get instead?
Sauerkirsche flavoured fluid that at first
You foolishly gulp down as juice
High class! After all its Deutschland!
To kill every hour you must play in your mind-land
Games of guilt and regret and horror and anger
Victory, silence, noise and pangers
Of hunger and desire and violence
But stagger is what you do from bed to door to window to wall
Feels so long
And so short
And your breath is too
What will you do when you get out foo?
Food, drink, smokes, shoes?
The ones that you stole, but you never bought?
GO BUY GO BUY (x8)

That is what they told her
Tchus!

I lovingly convert all curses into blessings across time and space