Good-bye, Donovan

He’s five foot two

And he’s six feet four

He flanks, he dribbels and he shoots

He never scores a goal

He never gets it right

He obviously has Scheisse on his boots

He’s Kuranyi, he’s Valdez

He’s Roque Santa Cruz

He’s everyone of KSC

He is Jarolim, he’s Hanke

and he’s Ludovic Magnin

The fans who see him

Always say: Oh weh!

And he’s playing for Borussia

He plays for S 04

He’s playing for the HSV

And why he’s in the starting elf

And why he was transferred

The manager not even knows genau

He never sees his Nebenmann

He fails in overtime

He’s a nightmare for the penalty

And he always is offsides

And the only goal he has

Is to bring a decent fan down to his knee

And without him and his failures

the crowd would not go mad

The Nordkurve it would not rauf its hair

There are no words to tell this

Well, there at least are three

They are madness and sadness and despair

He’s the Universal Chancentod

He really is to blame

His contract will expire that’s for sure

If he goes to Freizeitleague

We will have a Kantersieg

We do not want to see him anymore

Sing along with a real musician.

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