Yes, we've been driving back for hours on the West-Berlin motorway. We're making good progress, but there's still a long way to go home. We've refueled at Kassel again and I'm slowly getting used to it. With a little luck we could be in Frankfurt for dinner. Suddenly the front man is braking and there's no way forward. And we're standing, standing, standing in the traffic jam. On our own funk we are hearing that the traffic jam is many kilometres long. The thought of spending all night here doesn't want to make me sing a song. The travelling salesman in the car in front of us takes off his coat and tie. If we don't get going soon I somehow have this feeling, so will I. And we're standing, standing, standing in the traffic jam. We're far too late if we don't get going soon. And we're standing, standing, standing in the traffic jam. Slowly everybody's coming from their auto and they all begin to talk. A woman in a caravan makes coffee while some others take a walk. A trucker who grills sausages for the children because it doesn't go on. The traffic jam is now becoming a street festival and nobody notices how time goes by. And we're standing, standing, standing in the traffic jam. Do your best, nobody gets out of here. And we're standing, standing, standing in the traffic jam. Do your best, nobody gets out of here. And we're standing, standing, standing in the traffic jam.