Der Präsident ist tot [English translation]

Sunday morning

11 o'clock, the church service is out

And he walks out of the door

He waves and smiles

The same smile for years, years

The bell is ringing,

He kisses two children, left and right of him

A black and a white cop

The car is waiting, with it's saving bulletproof glass.

Still 20 meters, still 20 meters

The President is dead

The picture wobbles

There is the slow-motion

There is the shot

We see how he staggers and falls

A face for the camera

The sound cuts off

Mountains of lunatics in the republic

My God, they've caught him.

What is this country?