Looking at old photos, I remember those days,

The milk bar, the music and all those nights of happiness.

You were something very special, and so was I,

Now your is slowly getting grey hair and my belly is growing.

Most people don't care and accept their destiny.

We are holding on to our dream and won't give up yet.

We want

Revenge for Elvis, for Sid and all the others,

Revenge for Elvis and for Rock'n'Roll.

Revenge for Elvis from Zwickau to Flanders,

Revenge for Elvis, because we can't take it any more.

Listening to old records, I indulge myself in memory

Of my first Punkrock concert and the enthusiasm.

Now I'm losing my hair, I can no longer dye it,

Still this will surely not spoil the fun.

And you keep understanding me even if I get pissed from time to time,

We are holding on to our dream and won't give up yet.

We want...

They keep telling me, "Be quiet, because you are old-fashioned,

Be sensible, keep your songs U-certificated!

You cannot sing of beer and f*** until you are 60."

My God, I really tried, but I wouldn't succeed.

When I see old friends, my heart is full of grief,

A house and a wife and seven children, no more time for a laugh.

I hope, I'll never be as dead as they are right now,

Even if I'm sweating a little more while doing the Pogo.

And sometimes when I collapse you pull me up again,

We are holding on to our dream and won't give up yet.

We want...