Dieses Lied ist ein post-zivilisatorischer Regentanz, eine rituelle Beschwörung aus ihrer Verdrängung verstoßener Impulse, die sich irgendwo zwischen Nihilismus und versehentlicher Selbstdestruktion umherbewegen. Die Spieldauer ist lang genug, um bei entsprechend lauter Wiedergabe durch adäquate Schallwandler den Klimawandel als boshafte Wendung in Richtung einer verregneten Eiszeit zu entlarven und schließlich aufzuhalten.
Crawling down that ghostly streets
I scrub the skin on my knees
Painting a trace of cold blood
Plunging hot tears in the mud
Don’t you see
I’m on the flee
I struggle, I strive
In this abandoned life
Counting the butts on the ground
Eating the snots that I’ve found
While a cold breeze starts to cry
My little time is passing by
Reb.
I won’t be returning home
I’ll always stay on my own
Filled out with gross emptyness
The time has come for to confess
Ref.
Picking so deep in my nose
This is how dumb mining goes
While sadness covers my eyes
I can hear ghosts slightly sigh
Don’t you see, I’m sighing, I’m crying, I’m dying,
I’m descending so deep down in an endless grave
I’m drowning, I’m frowning, no grounding,
I’m loosing breath before I take my first step to fade away
I’m burning, I’m learning, I’m yearning,
I’m longing for that nothingness that will fulfill my heart
I’m leaving, not grieving, believing,
I’m stepping out this world, being bound for to fall apart
Crawling for miles without aim
I have to shoulder the blame
Descending deep in a pond
The time has come to be gone
It feels like strengling so cruel
I led the life of a fool
There is no chance to break free
Which is unhopeful to me
I smell the taste of dead skin
Seems like I rot from within
I have forgotten my name
While I’m shattered from pain
Even my soul will decay
I fell it fading away
Sponged by the mud on the street
This is my final defeat
Through these abandoned roads
I carry that heavy load
Dying down is my release
Receiving it on my knees
I do feel
This is for real
I’ve lost my strife
In this abandoned life
I have forgotten my life
I’ve lost my mental strife
No need for the days of the past
No need for times that will last
Feeling so empty inside
Just ghosts will be by my side
Nearby that rusty old gate
I do accept my cruel fate
A pothole `s waiting for me
Sweet home for eternity
Beside an ugly street drain
Noone can find my remains
T&M: Frank Spatzier