I hear the rain pattering on my window
the unopened letters feel comfortable here
on my walls dreams fight against soberness
and on the ceiling questions gather
What if I just left
what, what if I'd just pack my things
and left this town
I fold all my tents
sell what I have
and the only thing that remains
is a note on which I write:
I'm gone
gone, gone forever, I'm gone
What shall I remember?
Woran halt ich mich
when every day only is there to be forgotten
I don't need to be a saint nor a prophet to see
that nothing is working for me here
and when I just leave
over night
I leave this country
and don't shed a single tear
Und alle meine Zelte brech ich ab
Verkaufe was ich hab
...
that's not a temporary farewell
no it is, it is forever