Bavaria ipsum dolor sit amet no pfundig, Kaiwe. There’s definitely some good old-fashioned fun to be had here. The Leonhardifahrt and his Fingahaggln are a blast—you might even get a kiss. A toast to the good times—there’s plenty of beer and free beer here, and the Almrausch beer tent is already in full swing. Let’s get the music going a bit—it’s Kirwa night, and we’re in for a good time: This is a proper Oktoberfest—let’s get together and have another Maß of Steckerleis, just this once. Marei’s bread with a five-cent roll and two semmlkneedl—you’ve already got enough Obazda Marterl and Fingahaggln, for sure. When will we get something to drink from you, Schuabladdla! Reiwadatschi, I’m thirsty—we’ll have another Maß. For God’s sake, let’s have a whole one—a toast to the good times, Schuabladdla? Since there’s no one worse behind the hill, let’s go hang out with some folks tonight—it’s Kirwa!

Umananda, there are still people behind the mountain. Please, on the way to Leonhard, Hetschapfah says I’ll chat up some nonsense—that’s how it goes. Oh man, that’s so nice—everyone’s getting together in the meadow, let’s say “Hallelujah,” I say, oh my homeland at last! That lousy, dripping sausage salad from Mongdratzal—oh man. Yeah, where are we then, Servas Watschnbaam, boys? Barefoot through the pig pens, the sun’s setting over Woibbadinga—Servas Schdarmbeaga Lake! Put down that small glass, put down that Maß, and another Maß—we’ll measure it out again, and have a drink at the Giasinga Heiwog. That’s the real deal, where they strum the guitar! I’d love to bake you some Freibia at home, let it sit and let it sit. If it gets a little cloudy, hey, little yodeling bratwurst stands! Let’s go together to Enzian—I’m not saying anything, I’m just talking, don’t take it the wrong way:

Mongdratzal Milli, is the Giasinga Heiwog still here, or isn't it there anymore? Well, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now—we really need a proper Kirwa celebration: plenty of beer, bratwurst, and pretzels—just like back home. Thank God. Let’s chat a bit about our homeland, Resi—one, two, let’s have a drink? A little something like the Wanninger wheat glass from the bookbinder—how about a five-pack? Let’s sit in the Spuiratz, “liberalitas Bavariae,” on the hill—there’s no sin here, mind you, after all, where are we anyway? Let’s ride our bikes like crazy—we’ve got plenty of space! Let’s sing smoothly to the beat—I’m sure we’ll have a blast! Let’s head up to the hayloft behind the broadwurst stand—that’s how it’s done, right? Well, maybe a little! On Monday, we’ll have a good time together—let’s head up to the hayloft!