En d`r Urlaub geht es jetzt,

                                                                  ohne jegendliche Hetz.

                                                    Mit dem Zügle fahre me` em Ländle rom,

                                                       denn mer send doch gar net domm.

                                                                 En Urlaub des muss sei,

                                                     schee relexe, des fende mer jo so fei!

                                                                             engele

                                                                 

                                                   D´r domme Motordeckel will net halte do,

                                                              ma ko drucke, so lang me ko.

                                                             Jetzt han i no die Faxe dick,

                                                          des fend i überhaupt net schick! 

                                                         Grad jetzt muss der Karre streike,

                                                          aber dem werd i des jetzt zeige.

                                        En`d Werkstatt kommt er jetzt ond soll dort bleibe,

                                                         ond soll dort sei Ohwese treibe.

                                                                              engele

                                              

                                                       Ach, isch des Mittagsschläfle aber schee,

                                                     bequem ganget meine Beinle en die Höh.

                                                          I treim en ganz scheene Traum,

                                                           von em´wonderscheene Baum! 

                                                                            engele

                                                         

                                                           Bei ons`re Mama isch`s kuschelig warm,

                                                         wie en einem scheene Märchetraum.

                                                              Sie isch onser beschtes Stück,

                                                             do hen mir zwoi a grosses Glick.

                                                                               engele

                                                            

                                                           I han Di so lieb mei Schnuggele,

                                                                 geb mer doch mol a Bussele!     

                                                                   Ohne Di will i nemme sei,  

                                                                Di zu habe, fend i eifach fei!

                                                                                 engele

                                              

                                                                             I lieb Di, aber wie mei Schatz,

                                                       drom geb i Dir au glei en`Schmatz.

                                                                I will Di nie mehr misse,

                                                         Du bisch mei sanftes Ruhekisse.

                                                                              engele

                                                       

                                                                 Mir zwoi radlet jetzt durch ons`re Stadt,

                                                          viel scheenes man do zu sehe hat.

                                                               Onser Hondle derf au mit,

                                                           o`bonde isch er, welch en` Hit.

                                                                             engele

                                                                   

                                                                 Jetzt sitze mer uff onser`m Sonnebänkle,

                                                         die Vegele on`s a Liedel senge.

                                            Monder zwitscheret se` ond flieget hin ond her,

                                                         die Sonn scheint emmer mehr.

                                                  Eifach schee isch`s  en`d`r freie Natur,

                                                      do brauche mir zwoi koi extra Kur.

                                                                           engele

                                           

                                              En`toller Knuddler schick i jetzt zu Dir nüber,

                                              no kommt bestemmt wieder ebbes tolles rüber.

                                                         Schee, dass es en `Computer gibt,

                                                          en´ihn han i mi scho lang verliebt.

                                                Do kann mer so schee die Briefle fliege lasse,

                                                       ond ois om`s andere no verfasse!

                                                                            engele

                             

                                                 Mir send die luschtige Drilling der Familie Bär,

                                                          bei ons geht`s emmer stürmisch her.

                                                           Do isch emmer ebbes los bei ons drei,

                                                               do kann mer so erlebe, allerlei.

                                                                Mir drei send a tolles G´spann,

                                                       des isch halt toll, dass mir a`nander han!

                                                                                 engele

                                              

                                                                       Schlof, Kendle, schlof,

                                                                      Dei Vater hütet Schof.

                                                             Dei Mutter schüttelt`s Baümele

                                                                 no fällt herab a Träumele,

                                                                    schlof, Kendle, schlof!

                                                                   (altes schwäbisches Kinderlied)

                                                            

                                                      Komm halt her mei klois Lauserle zu mir,

                                                       a schmatzig`s Bussel kriegsch von mir.

                                                           Brauch`sch de au net zu geniere,

                                                     oimol muss me des Bussle jo ausprobiere!

                                           

                                              Komm halt her, i han ebbes für Di mei Schatz,

                                             dofür bekomm i aber jetzt en`schene Schmatz.

                                                          En`der Arm will i Di jetzt nehme

                                                      ond Dir jede Menge Bussele au gebe.

                                                         Des rote Rösle will i Dir schenke,

                                                      denn Du solscht emmer an mi denke.

                                                                            engele

                                                        

                                                        Mei Sessele isch jo so bequem ond fei,             

                                                    do lass  i so schnell niemand nei!

                                                       Schee relexe ond gut schlofe tu i wohl,

                                                               des fend i eifach rießig toll!    

                                                                               engele          

                                                               

                                                           Jetzt goht die Party richtig los,

                                                     wo bleibet denn meine Gäscht jetzt bloß?

                                                       No trenk i halt mei Sektle ganz allei,

                                                des fend i von meinen Freind jetzt gar net fei.

                                                                              engele

                                                                               

                                                             Hoch das Sektglaserl ond trenkt uff onser Wohl,

                                               25 Jahre verheiratet ond elles isch no emmer toll.

                                                  So mache mir die nächschten 25 Jahre weiter,

                                                             luschtig, vedel ond immer heiter.

                                                                               engele

                                                                      

                                                   Schee isch es doch uff derer Welt,

                                                  mir zwoi brauchet dazu au koi Geld.

                                                 Mir hen ons g`fonde, koiner isch allei,

                                                       so soll es em`Lebe ja wohl sei!

                                                                          engele

                                                           

                                                           Mit mei`m ganze Herze mog i Di,

                                                           schau no uff mei Bruschterl hi.

                                                        Des isch onser Herzerl für die Lieb,

                                                           wenn sie nur für emmer blieb!

                                                                             engele

              

 

                                                                    nach oben