He has been running for 30 yeras in rain, wind and snow
The election campaign of the SPD in pedestrian zones
The wind entangles with the campain program
And the richest man in town looks at him sympatheticly
The lunatic of town talks insistently to him and he will be the only one today
Later he folds up the red umbrella and stows aways the flyers into his trunk
And then he leaves
Born on coal and lived with dues
He slowly drives through the jam on the Ruhrschnellweg
This is his cradle and this will be his grave
He then leaves the autobahn at a D&W car center
White are the knuckles on his hands
Red are the bricks on the house's walls
In the town house complex at the edge of town
He has seen things nobody has ever seen before
Green is the leave on the dark river
And the leave will swim because a leave has to swim
One who doesn't believe in chance, does not deserve luck, is what a comrade next to him at the counter says
A gaming machine sings its only song, the one about the lie that luck exists
He drinks up and pays and pops up his collar
Clouds are covering the moon in a storm
It smells of fall in the middle of august
He thinks: "I am a country and life is a current."
White are the knuckles on his hands
Red are the bricks on the house's walls
In the town house complex at the edge of town
He has seen things nobody has ever seen before
Green is the leave on the dark river
And the leave will swim because a leave has to swim
In the kitchen the light is still on and a flower wilds on the windowsil and he thinks: "The field is tilled.
The harvest will be hard, because the field is old."
The summer has come to an end and the fall will be cold
He massages his white knuckles with the other hand, looks at the old vacation snaps on the wall
On the kitchen table there's a note
And the flat is empty. "I've tried everything but it does not work out anymore."