Lyrics:

Sorry we´re open
come in we´re closed
i´m warming the raclette oven
i said
come in we´re closed
it was great talking to you
having nothing to say
but now that that´s been said
get the fuck away

my guitar like a kalashnikov
my bass-drum like a bazooka
pick up youre artillery
in the myth of defeat
and if i´m gonna raise my voice
it´s my weapon of choice
the end of entertaiment
is the beginning of war
my guitar
my guitar

i´m cursing an ointment
hear me snorting a symphonie
every flatulence an opera
every drop of sweat an elegy

create something out of nothing
i faking the highlights
i could
my fingerprints in mass production
a public hair nailed to a pieve of wood

my guitar like a kalashnikov
my bass-drum like a bazooka
pick up youre artillery
in the myth of defeat
and if i´m gonna crack my voice
it´s my weapon of choice
the end of entertaiment
is the beginning of war
my guitar
my guitar

i don´t knoe where i´m going
everbody follow me
i don´t knoe where i´m going
everbody follow me
i don´t knoe where i´m going
everbody follow me
if i knew where i was going
i wouldn´t want you to come with me

my guitar like a kalashnikov
my bass-drum like a bazooka
pick up youre artillery
in the myth of defeat
and if i´m gonna crack my voice
it´s my weapon of choice
the end of entertaiment
is the beginning of war
my guitar
my guitar

(Dank an Mia für den Text)