The others walk their path so proudly
You stumble on threads that are invisible
The same old circles, you can't get away
You've been dreaming what it's like elsewhere
They whisper after you: Oh, the poor thing
Can't find its place
Is outside once again
But nobody's better than you
At doing your part
The one who looks with pitiful eyes
Only grows old
And nobody will come back
Once you go away
Carry your wreath nobly smiling
With disgust, they watch as you dream
Heads turn towards you with pity
A madman sleeps on our way, take him away
I guess the fallen one can wander in hiding
They whisper after you: Oh, the poor thing
Can't find its place
Is outside once again
But nobody's better than you
At doing your part
The one who looks with pitiful eyes
Only grows old
And nobody will come back
Once you're gone
Carry your wreath nobly smiling