When the rocket ships all fall
And the bridges, they all buckle
And everybody’s packing up their station wagons
There’s a number you can call, like a breast that you can suckle
And we quietly will exit as it all is happening again

‚Cause there’s a river running underground
Underneath the town towards the sea
That only I know all about
On which from this city we can flee
On which from this city we can flee

(Rechts hinten erwischt man dann und wann einen Blick auf das Sterntalerlein -nein, nicht das pummelige Mädchen. dahinter-und dessen eigenwillige Beinarbeit.)