Chybíš mi [English translation]

On a small bad sattisfied by coitus

after the night joy still seeing twice

but in your morning run-away i am becoming sober so painfully

as a prisoner of your last touch...

Sleepy clown, me, child forever,

you were pulling honesty from shopping-bags

and feelings which have left

I am and you too and both we feel fear

that all what "is" doesn´t really exist

and without the fight love is priceless,

we are just two bottomless bins

and my soul doesn´t knows yours.

I am missing you, missing you,

why you are surprised,

I am missing you, missing you,

and you´re driftinh away again

Too beautiful

to know how to make love for real

too beautiful

to dry in my wet palms

First time again together in a recent time

we are quite - without sense - it´s in both of us

so strong as you say

so strong as I wish

if you are getting dressed in morning

and I smile at it

but feeling tired

from all the self-deceits

I will wake up first, as I guest I cannot enter your mind,

destiny: come and fight with me!

thousand times you must get up

to understand that I have you

in all of my songs, evening prayers,

let´s walk with me drunk by sunrise

let´s promise each other things that other don´t

first time in a life honest to a person

I am missing you, missing you,

why you are surprised,

I am missing you, missing you,

and you´re driftinh away again

Too beautiful

to know how to make love for real

too beautiful

to dry in my wet palms

Again we´ll meet drunk from a vinegarish wines

hopeless not finding a way out

twisted together we´ll cross the midnight city

we will offer oureselves to confused souls with a gesture

with a life full of known, but little lies

you´ve found a place between soul and heart

and me - blindly with a white stick

not brave to do anything

touching you

and the darkness

as you are falling asleep

under me

I am missing you, missing you,

why you are surprised,

I am missing you, missing you,

and you´re driftinh away again

Too beautiful

to know how to make love for real

too beautiful

to dry in my wet palms