Küssen Verboten (“Kissing Forbidden”) is a playful pop anthem by the German group Die Prinzen. The narrator loves the admiration he gets – gifts, chores done, endless compliments – yet he refuses the one thing every admirer really wants: a kiss. From childhood crushes waving cheese sandwiches to friends who appear in his dreams with looming lips, he keeps repeating the catchy rule "Küssen verboten!".
Beneath the humor sits a clear lesson about personal boundaries. No matter how attractive, generous, or persistent someone is, consent is non-negotiable. Die Prinzen wrap this message in a sing-along melody, witty storytelling, and comic exaggeration, reminding listeners that saying “no” can be firm, funny, and unforgettable.
Be Cool Speak Deutsch is a tongue-in-cheek anthem about how modern German is being peppered with flashy English buzzwords. The singer tries three simple things—buy a train ticket, choose a car, and order some food—but each time he runs into a wall of half-German, half-English marketing talk: “Servicepoint,” “First-class-business-Zug,” “numeric green stretchflag,” “baked potato skins with Mexican hot sauce.” His polite reply is always the same: Be cool, speak Deutsch with me, maybe then I’ll understand you!
Behind the comedy lies a gentle critique of language fashion. Die Prinzen remind us that clarity, authenticity, and mutual understanding matter more than sounding trendy. By exaggerating the mish-mash of English phrases, the song playfully asks listeners to think about how much borrowed jargon they really need in everyday conversation—and whether speaking plainly might actually be the cooler choice.
“Deutschland” by Die Prinzen is a tongue-in-cheek love letter and roast rolled into one. The band races through a checklist of everything Germans are famous for – precision cars, record-breaking taxes, spotless streets, unbeatable sports teams and, of course, the TV show Wetten, dass..?. Each boast is delivered with a wink, and every compliment is quickly followed by a jab. By piling up clichés, the song highlights how national pride can slip into self-congratulation and how easily stereotypes become caricatures.
Beneath the catchy chorus lies sharp social satire. When the singers claim that “God kissed the earth right where Germany is,” they are deliberately overdoing it. Lines about loving cars more than spouses, vacationing in Thailand for flirtations, or being “ready for war anytime” expose darker undercurrents of xenophobia, consumerism and aggression. In the end, Die Prinzen invite listeners to laugh, cringe and reflect at the same time, reminding us that every country – even a proudly efficient one – has quirks worth celebrating and flaws worth confronting.
Frauen sind die neuen Männer is Die Prinzen’s tongue-in-cheek anthem about the great gender role plot twist of the modern world. The singer looks around and sees women doing everything men were once praised for: earning big money, driving sports cars, flying into space, even waging wars and cheating in love. With every line he jokingly ticks off another “male” stereotype that has switched teams, while men, he claims, now sit on the softer side of the spectrum, secretly crying and getting pushed around.
Behind the playful exaggeration lies a smart social commentary. By flipping clichés on their heads, the band pokes fun at how arbitrary those old labels really are and invites us to rethink what “masculine” and “feminine” mean today. The final twist—he falls in love again anyway—reminds us that attraction and relationships do not fit neatly into outdated boxes. In short, the song is a catchy, humorous reflection on shifting power dynamics and the ongoing dance toward true equality.
Es war nicht alles schlecht – “Not everything was bad” – is a nostalgic look back at the band’s younger days in East Germany, when money was scarce but imagination was rich. The lyrics celebrate simple thrills: inventing meals when the fridge was empty, squeezing into a sleeping bag instead of a feather-down bed, and tasting freedom on a first, rickety car. Sunday family time in the garden, handwritten postcards instead of smartphones, and TV that felt oddly unreal all paint a picture of a slower, tighter-knit world where laughter made up for what wallets lacked.
In the second half, Die Prinzen widen the lens from private memories to the social changes that came with reunification. Legendary house parties, a crush on a “hot” math teacher, and nights of carefree revelry suddenly give way to a flood of new, colorful possibilities – and to a music career that puts them center stage. By repeating the refrain, the band reminds listeners that while the past had plenty of flaws, it also held genuine warmth, creativity, and community spirit worth remembering. The song’s playful admission that it’s “not as high-brow as Bertolt Brecht” underscores its true aim: to spark a grin, stir a bit of bittersweet nostalgia, and encourage us to treasure the good moments hidden in any era, no matter how imperfect.
Gabi und Klaus is a cheeky little drama that plays out like a soap opera in under three minutes. Poor Gabi pines for Klaus, but he shrugs and ends the relationship with a cold “Es ist aus!” Heart-broken, she races through the rain wailing that “life is cruel and Klaus is a pig.” Just when she has finally sung the pain away, Klaus realizes his mistake, runs back drenched in regret, and – surprise – gets the same icy dismissal. Now he is the lonely one sprinting through puddles, switching the lyrics to “Gabi’s a pig” while insisting that life is still terribly unfair.
The song is a playful reminder that love can flip faster than you can change a chorus line. With slap-stick repetition and catchy insults, Die Prinzen poke fun at the roller-coaster of teenage emotions: one moment you are the victim, the next you are the villain. In the end nobody wins, but everyone gets a memorable hook to shout in the rain – proof that heartbreak can be hilarious when put to a bouncy beat.
Die Prinzen turn a simple bicycle ride into a tongue-in-cheek adventure. The singer brags about tearing through the streets at 120 km/h, hoping the police won’t notice, and swears loyalty to his trusty two-wheeler even more than to his wife. With playful exaggeration he describes the bike as a cloud-gliding partner that will never let him down, painted completely blue because "blau" also means tipsy in German – a wink at his own occasional partying.
The chorus fires playful shots at car culture: "Jeder Popel fährt einen Opel … Nur Genießer fahren Fahrrad" (Every snot drives an Opel … only true connoisseurs ride a bicycle). By labeling car owners with silly nicknames while crowning cyclists as the real winners, the song pokes fun at status symbols and celebrates freedom, simplicity, and a dash of eco-friendly rebellion. In short, “Mein Fahrrad” is a humorous love letter to anyone who’d rather pedal past the traffic than sit in it.
“Ich Schenk Dir Die Welt” by German pop group Die Prinzen is a grand, tongue-in-cheek love pledge. The singer showers his beloved with impossible gifts – the world, the moon, the stars, even Sahara sand and the sun itself – to show just how far his devotion reaches. These exaggerated promises make the lyrics playful and fun, yet they also highlight a very real feeling: when you are in love, no gift seems too big and no journey feels too far.
Beneath the humor lies a bittersweet story. The partner has started “steering their own film” and may never return, leaving the narrator adrift like “a ship in heavy water.” Still, he refuses to give up. The repeated chorus is his unbreakable vow: he will keep loving her for a thousand years, whether she stays or sails away. The song is both a light-hearted pop anthem and a heartfelt reminder that true love can be steadfast even when the future looks uncertain.
“Millionär” turns the eternal cry of “Show me the money!” into a cheeky comedy. The singer dreams of bottomless riches, yet freely admits he is clueless, lazy, and armed only with a “big mouth.” Each chorus pounds home the fantasy of a forever-full bank account, while the rapid-fire chant “Geld, Geld, Geld” makes the craving impossible to ignore.
But Die Prinzen are really poking fun at society’s money obsession. The narrator toys with outrageous get-rich schemes—robbing a bank, marrying wealthy widows, or becoming a pop star—only to back out because prison, heartbreak, or hard work sound worse than being broke. The song’s playful irony reminds us that the chase for millions can be just as ridiculous as it is tempting, and that laughing at our own daydreams might be the richest payoff of all.
Ever dreamed of hitting it big, cruising in a shiny Benz, or seducing someone with a poem so sweet it melts their heart? Die Prinzen’s cheeky hit “Alles Nur Geklaut” pulls back the curtain on those fantasies and shouts, “Gotcha!” The singer brags about chart-topping songs, endless riches, and irresistible charm – then admits every last bit of it is stolen. It’s a playful confession that pokes fun at plagiarism, fake fame, and the little white lies we tell to look cooler than we really are.
Behind the catchy chorus, the band delivers a lighthearted lesson: appearances can fool us, but honesty wins in the end. As you sing along, you’ll laugh at the over-the-top boasts, recognize the satire of modern celebrity culture, and maybe even reflect on how easy it is to borrow ideas without giving credit. Grab your headphones, get ready to clap, and enjoy this witty reminder that not everything glittering in pop music – or life – is truly original!
“Blaue Augen” is Die Prinzen’s playful protest against the glittery world of money, brands and TV fame. The singer lists everything that leaves him ice-cold: designer clothes, fashion icons, endless talk about cash. He shrugs off Bennetton, Lagerfeld and even the promise of luxury, declaring that only a sheikh is truly rich. In other words, all the status symbols that usually impress people bounce right off him.
Yet there is one dazzling exception: the listener’s blue eyes. The moment he looks into them, every cool façade melts away, logic disappears and pure emotion takes over. Those eyes are “phänomenal,” so powerful that the rest of the world becomes “total egal” — completely irrelevant. By contrasting consumer cynicism with genuine affection, the song humorously reminds us that real feelings still trump flashy lifestyles, even if that sudden rush of sentiment can feel “gefährlich, lebensgefährlich.”