It feels like I am a parasite riding
a strange animal.
Even when I touch you, my hand feels like
it does not belong to me.
It's as if I am awkwardly,
and without any routine, steering
the unknown yet familiar-looking apparatus, the
alien machine.
You are wrong!
You are so strange here!
Can you be yourself?
And are you completely with yourself?
It sounds like your own voice only
speaks in foreign tongues.
There is not a moment when your singing does not
sting your ears.
I eat and play my role,
here in the shadow theater.
As if I were always standing by my side, twin-minded, as
a radical consultant.
You are wrong!
You are so strange here!
Can you be yourself?
And are you completely with yourself?
And this is supposed to be everything?
After the beautiful and often uninhibited,
the terrible, ugly, often
forced metamorphoses.
After all the bizarre events
and the shadows they cast ahead,
in the tragic horror play,
you must finally expose yourself completely.
You are wrong!
You are so strange here!
Can you be yourself?
And are you completely with yourself?
Your fate takes revenge,
brings you only suffering.
Can this actually
to be the whole truth?
You are wrong!
You are so strange here!
Can you be yourself?
And are you completely with yourself?
And are you completely with yourself!