Maybe I've never understood
if your thing is merely a fear of risks.
If eating tears with bread
makes you feel bad and you no longer want,
you no longer want
To walk on the streets
with the lampposts lit inside our hearts,
to breathe dust and tar,
and hurt each other, no longer speaking.
Maybe I'll think a bit of us with your 'dunno's'.
I won't run out of oxygen because you don't know that
I'm also capable of staying
with my legs hanging and looking down
even if I later feel vertigo because of you.
And look, I don't care, care, care
about staying on a still rope and looking down.
I would also be capable of turning back
time and trying to readjust again
all the rusted engines
that have been broken for a while, broken for a while.
I'll walk two thousand metres over the sea
balancing myself on this unstable rope
and I'm afraid of falling and hurting myself but you don't know that
I'm also capable of staying
with my legs hanging and looking down
even if I later feel vertigo because of you.
And look, I don't care, care, care
about staying on a still rope and looking down.
Great, they pass
and change, the seasons in the Antarctic
if we then graze each other for a moment.
And I'll find myself two thousand metres
over the sea balancing myself
on this unstable rope
and I'm afraid of falling and hurting myself
but... you don't know that
I'm also capable of staying
with my legs hanging and looking down
even if I later feel vertigo because of you.
And look, I don't care, care, care
about staying on a still rope and looking down.