A forty years old bald accountant had a terrifying dream
In his nightmare played a rocker rasing all his steam

His eyes were sparkling, his frame was writhing
His cheeks were burning, his soul was flying
Was more delighted and more rejoiced than before

A forty years old bald accountant had a terrifying dream
Next day morning at his counter feel sound asleep

Curly long beard relaced his neck-tie
To every day work waved a good-bye
Playing hard rock he felt himself high in the sky

Poor old creature from this time on lived a strange double life
Days with working, nights with playing, that´s how he spent all his time