Phantombild [English translation]

The city puts on the night

like a much-too-tight dress

nothing but vanity

Who already knows their neighbors?

who has the time?

nothing but vanity

We play city, country, plenty

and we’re searching until the end

but the thirst is never quenched

And only one idea serves as the planning

for my search in the end

just a nearly faded picture

The final star falls tonight

we’re awake much too long

and nobody knows what’s coming up

The tired moths fall into the light

I’m driving too quickly and barely ready to stop

and nobody says how it is

I only vaguely know what I want

and I only have a composite sketch

without path and signs, without plates

because I only have a composite sketch

of you

Throw your values over the curb

because how honest can a word be

that you give while in pain?

Where it itches, you aren’t allowed to scratch

I’ve searched for you

on several mattresses, loved in vain

City, country, plenty

we’re taking the last bus

and accepting the nausea

I’m eating paper and puking confetti

tell me when will it stop?

when will it stop?

The final star falls tonight …

No cross marks your location

no map gives an answer

but I need your hand there

there where mine grabs into the emptiness