DESCRIPTION:
Aus dem neuen Album "unter unserer Haut"

http://www.fruechtedeszorns.net/index.php
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/de/

CD - Release: 02.05.10

There are a lot of words and the archives here are big,
But our world of words is meaningful meaningless.
Some are poor, some are rich – for us that seems normal,
And those who die in wars are a very distant number.

The carousel spins way too fast, some die, others become cold,
However nobody steps out, because that is what we have paid for after all.
How could that happen? we ask ourselves, and nobody knows why.
And like big trophies we stand around clueless.

Our questioning scares us, sometimes we are blind to the good in it.
We have a longing for the great feelings, that are switched on and off.

We are afraid that we fall, we’d rather stay where we are.
We have a longing for the great feelings, that are switched on and off.
Beauty is a martial art, that you also use against yourself.
The bodies are starved, trained and polished.
And we turn ourselves into deposit bottles, drink each other empty.
And at the end of the evening the bodies take themselves home.

Tenderness is wound up like a musical clock with the same old song,
Everybody moves to the beat, everybody knows the music.
At the same time we feel full like when you eat without hunger,
And we constantly suck on sugar to forget the salt of the tears.

Our deepness scares us, sometimes we are blind to the good in it.
We have a longing for the great feelings, that are switched on and off.

We are afraid that we fall, we’d rather stay where we are.
We have a longing for the great feelings, that are switched on and off.
The week has five days that don’t belong to us.
Two thirds of our life we don’t enjoy living.
Freedom is written into the calendar and usually doesn’t have enough space.
It squeezes itself between the lines next to other data.
The daily routine is a flower that wilts everyday but never dies.
You count the hours and the scars while you slowly grow older.
Like the doves that sit on the wires we have a hard time flying.
We settle for so little, although so much would be possible.

Our longing scares us, sometimes we are blind to the good in it.
We have a longing for the great feelings, that are switched on and off.
We are afraid that we fall, we’d rather stay where we are.
We have a longing for the great feelings, that are switched on and off.