Lletres: Herbert Grönemeyer. Bochum.

sun still fighting
through smoke and steam
life here's better
than you could ever dream
life here's better
life here's better
i know you're no beauty
for work's lined your face
you don't like wearing make-up
you're an honest place
where the human race
isn't always in competition

your heartbeat's of metal
it hammers out through the night
the foundation of prosperity
you're a working town
don't let them put you down
you bloom in your own way

bochum i call you home
bochum you're in my bones
oh, gluck auf - my home

you're not a neon playground
there are no fashion shows here
you're not a postcard for the tourists
here it's the heart that counts
not the size of bank accounts
you've never sold yourself away

bochum...

may your smile shine on forever
through the cold dust it gleams
be proud of your tiny gardens
proud of your traffic lights
proud of your chimney-stacks
proud of your football team!

bochum ...

oh, gluck auf
oh, gluck auf
oh, gluck auf - my home