Jennifer Rostock U.S.
Die Guten Alten Zeiten

Drunk kids at the beach
between night-warmed sand
and cold waves

And then with half-strong hand
our name on the wall
of the bus stop

But the rain is already smudging our traces
glances at the ticking clocks, time is a bitch
already ruining our castle in the clouds
it was never forever

It all goes on, it all goes on
tell me what’s left
it all goes on, it all goes on
tell me what’s left
the stories that we write today
those are our good old times tomorrow
and that’s what’s left
from the good old time

With the boys in Berlin
on the tiniest stages
of this big city

With guitar and amp
wedged in the backseat
out into every dump

And we’ve already been on tour for ten years
glances at the ticking clocks, time is a bitch
already ruining our castle in the clouds
it was never forever

It all goes on, it all goes on …