Texty: Herbert Grönemeyer. No Guarantee.

if it's all a tasteless sandwich
we're the filling in between
much is said, but much is left out

and the table creaks asunder
all the bullshit and the blunder
and they've a plan for when it breaks
i've no doubt

we're packing in our trolleys
groceries by megaton
buying all, but needing none
like pigs we loosen buttons
with the piety of gluttons
and strength through joys evading everyone

kiss me as i mount my tank
two of us against the bank
like a poet's words, alas, alack!
what will happen, wait and see
i bought you and you bought me
that's the kind of goods you can't take back

for there's no guarantee
no love eternally
there's only here, there's only now
this very second's all we've got
strike while the iron's hot
for we're all worms beneath the plough
we're all worms beneath the plough

with all the facts considered
there's not much to laugh about
the situation's dour and tense
well the tv expert speaks
like a leather sofa squeaks
shame, our flatulence will make more sense

now i beg on bended knee
together let us free
we'll take it up against the wall
if you want, i'll cheat and lie
don't be afraid to fly
when i'm losing it, i'll simply withdraw

for there's no guarantee...