In light of many astute comments, I've made some amendments in the translation, given below. In response to those who objected that the man in question could hardly be "upon her" after being hanged, that phrase simply mirrors Brecht, whose "droben" can't mean anything else. If you don't know the plot of the Threepenny Opera, you won't know that at the moment when Macheath is about to be hanged, the stage manager stops the play and announces that the company has decided to replace the downer of an ending with a new one, in which the queen's riding messenger announces a reprieve and makes Macheath a member of the nobility, complete with a castle and a very respectable income. So it seems that the last line of this song anticipates this "surprise" ending. As the singer at the end declaims,
If the needed cash is handy,
Then the end is mostly good.
THE BALLAD OF SEXUAL DEPENDENCY
There is a man – a Satan primed for battle.
The butcher he, and all the rest are cattle!
He does them in before they can do him in.
And who can master this whoremaster? Women!
Despite his plans, he’s ready for the sack.
He’s got the sexual monkey on his back.
He doesn’t read the Bible, scorns the statute book.
He thinks he is a super-narcissist,
Knows men who can’t be played do not exist,
And won’t give girls another look.
He shouldn’t praise the light till day’s a goner:
Before it’s night he’s climbing up upon her.
We’ve seen them dig themselves halfway to China,
Great spirits mired in a whore’s vagina.
And those who swore they wouldn’t fall, though scores did,
Were buried too. You know who did it – whores did!
Regardless what men want, they need the sack.
They’ve got the sexual monkey on their back!
And this one trusts the Bible, sneers at common law,
One is a Christian, one’s an anarchist.
At noon he crosses even celery off the list;
By afternoon his spirit has no flaw.
At evening he says, “I’m a man of honor!”
But come the night he’s lying there upon her.
This fellow here is facing execution.
They’ve tied the noose, they’re giving absolution.
His life hangs by a thread that’s thin and fraying,
But what’s he got in mind, the rascal? – Laying!
He’s on the gallows, ready for the sack.
He’s got the sexual monkey on his back.
They’ve sold him, hide and hair – a price was on his mug.
She’s got the Judas payment in her purse.
He starts to guess the truth and curse –
That in her woman’s pit his grave is dug.
And he may rage against that little conner;
Before it’s night he’s lying there upon her.
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