| Of course it's not the Seine
|
| This is not the Bois de Vincennes
|
| But it's still pretty
|
| In Göttingen, in Göttingen
|
| No docks and no catchphrases
|
| Who lament and who drag
|
| But love still blooms there
|
| In Göttingen, in Göttingen
|
| They know better than us, I think
|
| The story of our kings of France
|
| Herman, Peter, Helga and Hans
|
| In Goettingen
|
| And let no one be offended
|
| But the tales of our childhood
|
| “Once Upon a Time” begins
|
| In Goettingen
|
| Of course we have the Seine
|
| And then our Bois de Vincennes
|
| But God the roses are beautiful
|
| In Göttingen, in Göttingen
|
| We, we have our pale mornings
|
| And the gray soul of Verlaine
|
| They are melancholy itself
|
| In Göttingen, in Göttingen
|
| When they don't know how to tell us
|
| They stay there smiling at us
|
| But we still understand them
|
| The blond children of Göttingen
|
| And too bad for those who wonder
|
| And others forgive me
|
| But the kids are the same
|
| In Paris or Göttingen
|
| O let never return
|
| The time of blood and hate
|
| 'Cause there are people I love
|
| In Göttingen, in Göttingen
|
| And when the alarm would sound
|
| If we had to take up arms again
|
| My heart would shed a tear
|
| For Göttingen, for Göttingen
|
| But it's still pretty
|
| In Göttingen, in Göttingen |