The old man is dead The old man is dead
 
It was beetle number 607 Who tweaked him in the ass: "Time to go to bed!" The old man is dead
 
Decorations on red velvet Medals of World War One Memories of the Great War Sweets to die for Remedy for his tired head Fountain of youth Melted in lead The old man is dead
 
World War Two was not of his taste The parvenue talked too loud Cut potatoes with his knife Ate the fish with a knife Yet the hunting came alive Yet the killing did revive The old man is dead
 
Words like silver columns In fron tof an empty temple Wisdom of a Warhead By the grace of his Godhead Yet the days are long verweht Und jetzt, kleiner Krieger ist es spät Time to go to bed The old man is dead