Because their transportation problems
Are getting worse by the day,
Now one sees: The Krauts
Are confiscating all bicycles.
Yes, one sees how in the streets
The Third Reich soldiers
Are spying on bicycles
And anyone still transporting a bicycle
Is forced to dismount
And he loses his bike,
You may walk on by feet, boy,
Cycling is over.
Is your bike so worn out
Are your tyres finished,
Friend, you are done owning a bike
Because the Krauts are calling Stop!
Now that oil and gasoline
And also cars are becoming scarce,
Your bicycle is becoming a war machine
Replacing Chevrolet and Ford.
They must ride bicycles
Because their days of glory are over,
And one sees: the Krauts return
To hoglet hunting.
And they search and they seek
Everywhere for bicycles,
In the houses, in the corners,
In the attic, in the stable.
Hide it in hidden places
Somewhere where no Kraut sees it,
For it would be a shame
If they discover your bike, don‘t let it
Fall into German hands,
Put it somewhere safe,
Good tyres, bad tyres,
Store them carefully.
Don’t let your bike be stolen,
Hold it tight and cherish hope.
Because soon the German hangman’s assistants
Will flee without bicycles.
Post-Editing: Deidre Mattison
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