The days are like being dormant
a light of cold nights
or a black, long tunnel
that appears only in the head to thirst for, to say
I don't know it better1
I would cry even if sober
I looked behind me and turned into a pillar of salt
I stayed in this neighborhood
You come to resist God
You come to resist the whole world
I've fallen into a trance
I don't know whether it's evening or morning
I was living with the living
Now I die off with the dead
Fallen into a trance, I have
and I walk as pale as a ghost
Fallen into trance
I walk like a little boy
I stare at my shoes or the road
There wasn't a prince, a princess
It wasn't a beautiful fairytale, just the road
I don't know it better even with my bottle
A draught perhaps isn't enough
Yet I sing it's praise and for protection
I put it into the inside pocket
I see with my fuzzy eyes when it arrives
Death walks in its blackness and falls
Finally I can't fear my world
The harsh world doesn't need to wake up any longer
1. or 'I can't do it better'