Bremen - Novembre

«Something better than death

We can find anywhere»

We are cannon fodder

A plastic bag on a shore

Flowing back and forth

In a polluted shit of dawn

Ein, zwai, the leaders order the men to gloriously die

Ein, zwai, the leaders order their men to uselessly die

With the weight of a ton in your heart, sick, we’re living our lives

In a new epidemic of sorrow, everything is all right

Ein, zwai, the victims fall to the mincer of amnesia

One by one, the victims leaving a helmet of nostalgia

A repeating sequence

Shadows in black and white

Unending chronicles of époques lost in time

And then a window hollow

A Freudian scene

An oceanic square with all my demons in uproar

Ein, zwai, the victims fall to the Winter of amnesia

One by one, the victims losing their faith in God as they die

Are those a village lights or are they stars?

Are those the lights you brought me when I was beaten, fallen and drunk?

Are those the sparkles of your eyes?

Are these the borders of my time?