2019.01.01.
Scoundrels
My horse is old and tired,I sell it for 3 thalers
and a pair of old socks.
The thalers I'll spend on booze,
the socks I will use up walking!
Drowned and drunken away...
I will join the scoundrels!
I let myself drift in the wind,
my pot shall be at the fireside,
at the fire of the crooks.
There I'll get my finishing touch,
study the whistle, the killer grip,
the secret signs1 and the rites...
I will join the bandits!
I'll search myself a shelter
with the ladies of the red-light,
they respect my profession.
I roam through dark passages,
I dagger the potbelly!
I fill up my bag...
I will join the raff!
But when I have the money in my purse,
I don't give a damn about the rabble
and I'm going abroad.
Have to scram and get some distance
before the guards catch me.
I get cold feet2thinking about them...
They'll put me in chains!