This time it's just a goldrush town. Oh these sored red eyes have seen the Wall come down. A place of fear is a sense of loss. All the thanks have gone and the power' switched off. Young girl sleeps in the hifi-store. She's got a cardboard house on a concrete floor. Cameras flash in the baritone sax And the busker smiles. It's just a tourist trap. It's a meeting point between east and west, Between a refugee and a hotel guest It's the meeting point it's like a station here. No wonder I'm impatient. Some people who call me crazy or simply sentimental. You better believe your eyes, Just look out through window. It's just a goldrush town. It's just a goldrush town. It's just a goldrush town. Berlin.