[Verse 1] Berlin wall's rubble barely swept off the square, A trust called Treuhand inherits everywhere— Eight thousand five hundred factories, mines, and yards, Handed to a banker holding communism's cards. Rohwedder draws a ledger, pencils in the sum, Six hundred billion marks he swears will come, Smokestacks turned to equity, steel turned into stock, Selling off East Germany by the auction block. [Chorus] Treuhand, Treuhand, count the firms in rows, Eight-five-double-oh, that's how the story goes, Six hundred billion promised, two-fifty-six the hole, Fire-sale arithmetic eating up the whole. Vouchers, loans, and shares, the pattern's all the same, When a treasury's bleeding, the insiders stake their claim. [Verse 2] April, ninety-one, a bullet finds the chair, Rohwedder's calculations die on Düsseldorf air, Breuel picks the ledger up and finishes the chore, Shuttering the plants, hammering shut the door. The numbers never balance, the dream deflates to dust, Two-fifty-six in billions — deficit, not trust, Factories sold for marks that barely cleared the debt, A unification bill nobody's settled yet. [Verse 3] Cross the border eastward, Moscow, ninety-two, Chubais hands out vouchers, one for me and you, Paper promises of shares in rusting state machines, Traded off for vodka money, whatever cash that means. By ninety-five the treasury is gasping for a loan, Bankers purr, "we'll lend you cash — just pawn the throne," Norilsk Nickel's glitter, Yukos oil below, Collateral for kopecks in a rigged auction show. [Chorus] Treuhand, Treuhand, count the firms in rows, Eight-five-double-oh, that's how the story goes, Six hundred billion promised, two-fifty-six the hole, Fire-sale arithmetic eating up the whole. Vouchers, loans, and shares, the pattern's all the same, When a treasury's bleeding, the insiders stake their claim. [Bridge] Three hundred nine million bought an oil empire whole, Yukos changed hands cheaper than a highway toll, The loans were never paid, the auctions never fair, Insiders judged the bidding while still sitting in the chair. From Rohwedder's hopeful sum to Chubais's voucher game, Fiscal desperation wears a dozen different names, Mortgage the cathedral or auction off the mine, The ledger always balances on somebody else's time. [Outro] Eight thousand five hundred firms, two-fifty-six the cost, Three hundred nine for an empire — remember what was lost, Treuhand, loans-for-shares, scrawl it on your hand: Desperation sells the deed before it sells the land.
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