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The Erl King

Who is riding to late through night and wind ?
Can't you see ? Are you blind ?
It is the father with his kind !
He has the boy still on his arm,
His arm is cold, his son is warm.

My son, my son, why hide you your face so a lot ?
See, father, you the Erl King not ?
This King of Erl with crown and so;
My boy, this only a fog-band, oho !

You lovely child, come go with me,
Let's play funny games or climb on a tree.
Let's go to the beach, to the flowers and birds,
My mother gives you some fetzy shirts.

My father, my father, are you deaf, can't you hear ?
What this bloody King says. I'm so fuller fear !
Shut up now, and zappel not around, my child,
It is the wind which pipes through the trees so wild.

Now come, you fruity, let me not hang
Or don't you understand my dangerous slang ?
I have no time, what should I say,
My daughters wait for you since May.
In the night they want swing the dance leg with you;
They are very sexy and sharp on you.

My father, my father, why can you not see
The daughters of Erl King. Wow ! Look at the tree !
Hold the air on, my son, this is only a bluf,
First is it dark, second comes it from suff.

I like you much, you turn me on,
But if you not want, it gives no Pardon !
My father, my father, he is gripping me, ohhh !!
I think i must kotz, I need a labavo.

The father has a horror, he rides like the storm,
His son in his arm kringels like a worm.
He reaches his house, his son needs a bed,
under his backside, the Mofa is dead.

The father with its kind

The mofa is dead


1. Juli 2005, Martin Stehr