Humour suits her well, its all rehearsed, not one word too much1
So often copied, that she doesn't feel anymore
A lonely game
The facade is well built
But falls in on itself like a house of cards
As soon as she's alone2
And the world seems in order but nothing's perfect
She's hidden the skeletons in the closet simply too well
And she just wants to vomit, but she's keeps a low profile
She's afraid to fall asleep, because there's no-one to wake her
She is well-known here, but there's not one who knows her well
No-one can see her
The old photos are burnt, the last ashes blow in the wind3
She puts up no resistance, she asks herself, she asks herself
Is the facade well built, or does she break down
Like a house of cards as soon as she's alone?
And when she looks in the mirror and doesn't trust her outside anymore
Life rushes past her4
There she shows her true self and finds it hideous5
A soft scream for help
1. literally "no word too much2. literally "if she's alone for a time"3. literally "blow in the country/side"4. literally "life pulls quickly by/past". To me this phrase conjures up the image of standing on a platform as a train rushes by without you. "She just missed her life".5. "wahres Ich" literally "true I"