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Bring on the dull life
let it pour out
off the cracks in the ceiling
bring on the dull life
let it wake under the bed
let it crawl up your legs

Take the sleep
out off these tired bones
take this heart
melt it down
flesh for the hungry
blood for the thirsty
and today you’re a stranger
in the morning you’ll be mine

Bring on the dull life
let it pour out
off the cracks in the ceiling
bring on the dull life
let it wake under the bed
let it crawl up your legs

Seeking for inmates
smiling for love
stealing your heart
bows like a servant
hands up the glass
proposes a toast
to the day you’re a stranger
in the morning you’ll be mine

Bring on the dull life

Today you’re a stranger
in the morining you’ll be mine (all mine)
we’ll trade from heart
take out the cold
we’ll speak in words
no longer wasted

You’ll be mine


We travelled for ages
to kill some time
in a village
that hardly had a right to exist

The sun was killing
the beer was warm
but we felt great
like heroes from the west

Marcus sat down on a black fence
spreaded out a white line
looked at us
said: ‘would you like a try?’

Marcus was the village martyr
Marcus was in pain

He was so skinny
not that tall
had no voice left
whispered in a snappy way
we found a friendly home
a stay for the night
catch some sleep
while Marcus inspected the cupboards

Marcus had this spawn now and then
he said it felt
like a shot through the head
his teeth were falling out

Killer time took care of Marcus
killer time took care

Marcus left us praising daylight


Outside there’s a noise going on
you get up from your chair
put out the lights
then you walk to the window
open the blinds
to see what the commotion is all about

and it’s a long hot summer
in a lonesome town
with your friends in an asylum
or six feet underground
now you’re beating up the child
to make it stop from crying

you gave up the heartache
and wondering why
you locked yourself from the outside world
gave up the dreaming
gave up the thinking
sit in a corner close your eyes

then you’re sorry
things turned out bad
oh, you ‘re sorry
before you go mad

some prince who’se tender and kind
I bet he’s out there at the killings
with the fire in his eyes
now he’s breaking down the door
climbing the stairs
to give the girl what she deserves

and you gave up the heartaches


As you wake up on an evening
of another wasted day
you question your health
and your being sane
you wake up more tired
than before you went to bed
you try to switch off the voices
that rattle round your head
then you stumble to the kitchen
looking for something to eat
and discover a rat that’s gnawing
at a piece of rotting meat
it screams while you stand paralysed
it seems to sense your fear
and its black coral eye it stares bakc at you
then it finally disappears
and the honey has gone moulded
the milk has gone thick
your stomach turns as you knuckle down
you swear then you go sick
you trie to dress and comb your hair
you trie to wash and shave
but your hands won’t keep still
and the mirror can’t stand
the reflection of your face
then you leave this nest of garbage
more choking then alive
the rain smashes on your face
the wind moans and cries
the boys all grin like Satans
and the old man calls you scum
you breathe again as you enter the subway
that takes you from slum to slum
where a woman’s having trouble
with a negro blocking her way
as he starts to hit, the negro hits back
while you just look away
your destination’s not that far
from the station you get of
and the girl grins while remembering your face
then she starts to laugh

Drug me
I am cold
I am longing for a dream


I’m sorry to conclude
that you’re not doing very well
it must have been two years now
since my mind got blank on you
like a servant, like a slave
you keep running back to me
don’t you realise at all
that the trip you’re on ain’t mine
I despise the people who live on your planet

I found a photo
stuck between a pile of magazines
it’s you on the beach
in a dark-red bathing suit
you look good, you look young
against the grey, cloudless sky
I remember when it’s was made
it was summer ’85
and it must have been one week
before you lost your mind


The driver stops and turns his head
says: ‘ I don’t go further than this’
I hear you softly swear
as I pay the man and shut the door
heading north by foot
we see the old man passing by
in a tremble I hear you whisper
‘ hey man, it’s time’

Old man
no time for visions, flashbacks or regrets
old man
just the repulsion of your steaming breath
old man
you’ve got me wondering what’s under your brittle skull
old men
who shouldn’t play with fire in the arse of the city

I can’t remember if I walked
I can’n remember if I ran
all I remember’s
I’ve been roaming
I’ve got a question burning here
when did you ever come my way
did life begin......
did it end there?

the sun, it rises
rays of hope fall down on me
and the bloodmarks on the sidewalks

this is the arse of the city


The stereo had been smashed up
splintered records spread all over the floor
the TV it had vanished
after it had given a loud explosion
there was a helpless bundle of despair
in the middle of it all
time to take a train
time to split up the madness
time to leave and take a train
to someone else’s nightmare

Pictures and thin lines of what once stood tall
it’s been a long way down
smashing up the plates, crying out loud
until the neighbours started banging the walls
slitting her wrists with a stained kitchen knife
but the bleeding just stopped
and in came the reverend with bible in hand
he said: ‘let’s pray for his soul and the gift called life’

going to take you in


Tomorrow might be the day
I’m gonna change my name
take off this losers coat
steps on solid ground

Tomorrow might be the day
I’m gonna bomb your hometown
fill up the empty space
I’m gonna make it my home

Forever your red hair
while waving in winds of endlessness
forever your bareness
and friends while they celebrate
but I got to get away.....

I put on this coat of silence
I dissolve in this room
until all that rests
is the gnawing behind the walls
then I start packing my case
prepare for leaving

On my way out I pass your room once more

doubtfully standing by the door
it comes to me that I never loved or will love you
as long as you stay in reach
as long as you’ll be there to needs
as long as you’ll be there to swallow.....the whole bit
each attempt to make me speak, to put out my anger
will be one step closer to your own fall

(you’re still asleep, you’re a goddess in your sleep)

I hate you for being in love
I hate you for calling me names
I hate you for your stability
I hate you for your instability
I hate you for your body
I hate you making me want to
I hate you for hating me 
I hate you for wanting me
I hate you like I hate myself

Then I put both my hands around your neck
softly start pressing my thumbs against your throat

Push a little harder...and harder...HARDER!!!
(until every sign of life’s been presses out of you)

On my way to the station it comes to me
that today is going to be a long day

The longest day
The longest day

Would you have liked it this way?


My dear, here are some words to you
in handwriting, unreadable
to inform you about my mental state
each day it’s getting better

Doctors look up meaningful
murmer to themselves
they tell me, soon I’m fit enough
to witness my own trial

And my dreams seem like food for them
they want to hear all about it
but I just dream of you my dear
do you ever dream of me?

The view behind the windows here
is the only thing that lives
I sit and see the ghosts appear
in the naked trees and bushes

At the evening of the tragedy
it all seemed to me so clear
now words, they can’t seem to be found
no way to express

Became someone to look upon
became my own victim

no sex, belief or destiny
a ‘neutral of opinion’
and so I write to you, my dear
now they have taken out the anger
for I am ut an inmate now
of an asylum in the fall


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