the comedy of man starts like this:
our brains are way too big for our mothers' hips
and so nature, she divines this alternative:
we emerge half-formed and hope whoever greets us on the other end...
is kind enough to fill us in
that's pretty much how it's been ever since
no gods to rule us
no drugs to soothe us
no myths to prove stuff
no love to confuse us
not bad for a race of demented monkeys
from a cave to a city to a permanent party
je näher ich dem Ende komme,
umso mehr schreib ich den Anfang um.
(Locas in Love - Teile)
i think you're the same as me
take 2 sugars in the tea
hear them whispering
French and German
Dutch, Italian, and Latin
when no one’s looking I touch a sculpture...
marble, cold and soft as satin
but the most special are the most lonely
god, i pity the violins
in glass coffins they keep coughing
forgotten how to sing
how to sing
he used to do surgery
for girls in the eighties
but gravity always wins
don't talk about the 32nd of December
that's the night i'm trying so hard to forget
all you do is you come round and then ...
... well I remember
remember what i try, that i, what i ...
( babyshambles - the 32nd of december )
and concerning certain borders
it is known and one must understand
that they mostly fluctuate
you said to me a Sprite in hand
( tocotronic - the boundaries of good taste II )
we just don't belong
in shopping malls
with heavy heads and locker walls
an empty street at 3 a.m.
you told me you're not one of them
( the pains of being pure at heart - belong )