Secret world, secrets get bigger
but the only secret is how lame that secret is.
My future is not what I vision it to be,
I have potential for much less.
We start from where we end up,
I say let's just freeze and stay here.
Maybe that way I could stop for a while,
my time is in the sky as a smoke that has burned.
I try to do everything simultaneously,
because focusing on one thing is just too hard.
I'm a child jumping in order to reach and catch the moon from the sky,
I can't get it but I want nothing else.
I'm a smooth-talking boy. I tell stories, but I do nothing properly.
I try my best but it doesn't help,
that I believe my own stories with clear conscience.
On this album I tell only the truth, but this song is the most honest of all.
I don't even grab a backpack on my back without transforming that into a line in my head.
At the moment I'm laying in grass and I'm sober.
My dream is to come up with two verse's.
'Cause in the songs I'm a pilot I'm not afraid.
And dreams live there, and the mind isn't that clear.
I thought that I can write even the rattle in a train,
but hope was lost during the trip, who am I to keep it as mine?
I hoped that I could be useful,
but tidaling waves managed to eat that wish.
Even by making this I have to admit
that anyone can come and beat the beaten.
But hit me, I think I can survive that.
I'm alone in my shoes, different personas in my gang.
Many travel to foreign countries, I escape.
I don't build rather than break the groundwork.
I constantly offend my own limits.
I break my principles to shit as long as I come up with words.
I wrote this in China, Spain, Holland, Mexico, Irland and India,
but really just in wine and in some shit.
But talking about that isn't wise.
I realized that I sleepwalk all the time.
Image in the mirror sleeps and I'm dead in my other pictures.
But I can't do anything to fix this,
not until I feel the symptoms in my balls.
I've been thinking what could cause this,
where's what is reasonable?
I want back in the womb.
How does a team player end up in individual sports?
I miss rowing in pairs.
In the past the wanderer picked up the flowers, doesn't pick them anymore.
It feels like my affection-instinct doesn't work anymore.
I don't know how to be open like the normal people do,
I can't hear shouting, come here and whisper it to me.
That I can understand, but it doesn't cheer me up.
It can't even help me to tighten my note.
In my house the alarm clock is the only one who likes to ring.
I like just going to sleep.
Help this person drowning in spring-mattress.
Life-buoy that is thick as a finger
is where I place my bet. I gamble my whole childhood.
I can't dig deeper than this,
this was it your new secret lives.
My secret world in the form of rhymes.
This is what it is in the nature let's sing in a choir.