Weichen[t]stellung [English translation]

Elbows have struck bruises

Come on, this won't kill you!

No, it is certainly not a picnic;

And don't forget to cover them neatly

And to hide the pain.

So that no one is disturbed by your appearance

And outraged by your whining manner,

And no one hears your stifled moans,

Because they are unbecoming!

And so you dance through the streets, through the alleys

Like a shadow in graceful elegance.

The music that surrounds you is unbelievable,

And you spin yourself, dancing the gauntlet.**

There are many ways to manage you,

Opportunities to bring you in line,

Always smiling forms lurk,

which deter you with soft pressure,

which unfold your being.

Even as a child it was drilled into you,

that one soon regrets all weaknesses.

As a burned child who shies from fire,

You have forgotten how to be happy.

In pain you tear yourself from your tracks,

from the paths of their accustomed world.

You don't need anyone that guides your journeys,

no one that makes the hard choices for you.

And so you dance through the streets, through the alleys

Like a shadow in graceful elegance.

The music that surrounds you is unbelievable,

And you spin yourself, dancing the gauntlet.

In pain you tear yourself from your tracks,

from the paths of their accustomed world.

You don't need anyone that guides your journeys,

no one that makes the hard choices for you.