Black Market Dealers [bunkerrmantik-remix] Lyrics - Singles - Funker Vogt

Bombed ruins form the skyline 

Burnt places all around 

People trading their possessions 

A keepsake for some bread 

Crowded trains, full of people 

Remindful of a cattle transport 

Families get separated 

On the way to their new homes 

Still the children search for cover 

When they hear the airplanes 

Their bags are always packed 

Just with dolls, books and pencils 

It is the summer of forty-five 

Black market dealers are in the streets 

But we all feel so alive 

Now we get again what we need 

It is the summer of forty-five 

Black market dealers are in the streets 

But we all feel so alive 

Now we get again what we need 

The first black men they ever saw 

Were among the foreign soldiers 

Some of them were really kind 

Bringing food and sometimes sweets 

No more sirens in the night 

Which made you run into the basement 

No more fear of foreign soldiers 

Who came to search the house 

It is the summer of forty-five 

Black market dealers are in the streets 

But we all feel so alive 

Now we get again what we need 

It is the summer of forty-five 

Black market dealers are in the streets 

But we all feel so alive 

Now we get again what we need 

It is the summer of forty-five 

Black market dealers are in the streets 

But we all feel so alive 

Now we get again what we need 

It is the summer of forty-five 

Black market dealers are in the streets 

But we all feel so alive 

Now we get again what we need