[Music by: P. Wagner, M. Schmidt, Lyrics by: P. Wagner]



This place, home for all generations, never's been to small

When all life worked hand in hand

The centuries passed one by one

Without changing the circumstances

That we needed to be there



Like a firestorm

When all home dies and fear is born

To feed the firestorm

Like a firestorm

That burns the ground you're standing on

We'll feed the firestorm



And then - slowly but surely -

Explorers and inventors stepped into

The system they didn't understand

That's when the trouble began

And when the time marched on

They had learned how to destroy



Like a firestorm...



The end of the story is: nothing's impossible

And that's what we're afraid of

Apocalyptic signs, our homestead stands in flames

Guess we missed the lesson modesty



Like a firestorm...