Inscription

Sunday morning, drizzle, crows, tight misty veil.
A road running between fields sinks down in morass.
Police and rubbernecks stand around
Four blood covered corpses.
Everywhere there's blood., tufts of hair, shreds of skin.
In the middle lies a small metal shield
With the inscription "roma back to india"

Quickly you create a new idea of an enemy.
You with the boots, braces,
Hair which is as short as your judgement and your intellect.
You are only puppets of the "eternal yesterdays
Sick brains."
You roar your watchwords through the streets
And no one stops you!
No there's even clapping for your violent acts!
Every day takes us nearer to the 4th reich.

Single offenders don't come from nothing.
Politicians pave the way for the right-wing-extreme-scene.

Chorus

Discriminated, persecuted, humiliated, separated,

Out of society.
Discriminated, persecuted, humiliated, separated,
And killed like 60 years ago.
I feel ashamed of our country and it's population.
I feel ashamed of despicable things they've done.
I feel ashamed that minorities are not accepted.
I feel ashamed of the fascists in the parliament.

Single offenders don't come from nothing.
Politicians pave the way for the right-wing-extreme-scene.

Chorus

Discriminated, persecuted, humiliated, separated,
Out of society.
Discriminated, persecuted, humiliated, separated,
And killed like 60 years ago.
I feel ashamed of our country and it's population.
I feel ashamed of despicable things they've done.
I feel ashamed that minorities are not accepted.
I feel ashamed of the fascists in the parliament.