Oh show me the way to the next whiskey bar
Oh don't ask why
No don't ask why
For we must find the next whiskey bar
Or if we don't find the next whiskey bar
I tell you we must die
I tell you we must die
I tell you
I tell you
I tell you we must die
Oh moon of Alabama
We now must say goodbye
We've lost our good old mama
And must have whiskey
Oh you know why
Oh moon of Alabama
We now must say goodbye
We've lost our good old mama
And must have whiskey
Oh you know why
Oh moon of Alabama
It's time to say goodbye
We've lost our good old mama
I must have whiskey
Oh you know why
Goodbye
Moon of New York, moon of San Francisco
Moon of Berlin moon of Tokyo
Moon of Deutsche Demokratische Republik
Moon of BRD, goodbye
Oh show us the way to the next little Deutschmark
Oh don't ask why
Oh don't ask why
For we must find the next little Deutschmark
I tell you we must die
I tell you we must die
I tell you
I tell you
I tell you we must die...
Oh show us the way to the next little Deutschmark...
[c/o Bertolt Brecht & Kurt Weill / 1927]