My name is Peter
I'm grabing my grave
behind the tent.
One millimeter a week
'cause I'm too schwach to hold the Schaufel
with my arms, 'cause I'm old
and gray.
I'm Peter
I feel fine
Four times a year
flying in a plane
full of other Omas
direction of Minorca.
Holidays
sitting on a big table
eating cake
and drinking Hag.
Yes, I am Peter
I'm drummer in a band
and I'm old.
I sit on a chair
I count the rest of my hair.
It's coloured
a touch of blue
like the other Omas have, too.
My boss is singing english
I can't understand
that's the reason why I smile sometimes
for a little while.
Yes, I'm Peter
and I'm old.
I hope I see the christmas
and the christmas trees this year.
When I have much luck
I can see the Easter-Hase
with his Korb full of eggs.
Feeling fine
I'm schick with my wide jacket.
I feel so fine
I need no money.