Mein Koerper Ist Nicht Genug

Eisenbahnstrasse. Naechste haltestelle Chauseehaus.

Roads, trams, railways, culture, love but no paradise. Explosions for the new year. A Vietnam veteran you make me. A Vietnam veteran I'll always be when I'm surrounded by explosions of fireworks. Or in make believe. Where you said you loved me.

Kurt Schumacherstrasse. Naechste haltestelle Hauptbahnhof.

Citizens, partisans, art, theatre, love but no paradise. The promises you gave. You romanticised my mind. Absolute poison I swallowed because you were more than just an obsession. Everyday I walk with the haunted. The love I felt, the love you left, the love that was crushed into glassy sand splinters. Walk on the bed and bleed. Won't you take me any further?

Guten abend. Dieses Liebe ist vorbei! Die naechste haltestelle ist auf die links. Und die links ist auf die rechts. Geradeaus! Geradeaus!

Automated voices. Could've been romance if you wanted to go to the restaurant with me. Could've been love if you could set aside some time from me. You exclude me from all your activities. I feel like a dog being left out in the pissing rain because that's all you treat me as. For just once could you step outside yourself? Just once or is that asking too much out of you?

Einbahnstrasse mit Kartoffelsalat und Erdbeereeis. Oh ja, ja, ja du bist wundervoll. Ich sage nicht mehr als mein tod ist deine Stimme.

There's fun in burning your pictures. There's fun in burning your letters. There would be fun in killing you but what a waste of energy that would be. But no one else is worth that energy. No one else was worth staying up 36 hours for. I guess sacrificing my sanity just wasn't good enough for you. There was always something more you wanted. Something more I would've given for nothing in return. I would've said love but that would've been useless. Your love was a tap only you could turn on and off.

Stimme und lesen und kraft und ich bin Unsichtbar in deine Liebekontrollemaschine. Ja, ja, naja natuerlich. Wenn du fickst mit mein Gemuet, mein koerper ist nicht genug.

You Think It's Easy

You think it's easy to fall in love again. It's like being a prisoner trapped inside. You crave intimacy yet intimacy is how you arrest me. Every word I say can and shall be used as evidence against me. You want to get under the skin but you'd only itch and I'd scratch myself all over and come out in a rash.

You think love is beautiful but it's also closer to hell. Heaven is death that the mind can't tell. You want more, because nothing ever satisfies you. Always like a selfish baby wanting another toy. A vampire to suck the blood from. You prey on our innocence and hope that we'll be naive to forget what we learnt. You want honesty but I tell white lies to make you feel better. If I told you the truth, you'd only want a competition into who can dish out the best insult. You want my feelings so you can twist them around. Remodel and reshape because there's nothing like a good challenge.

You believe in fairytales that don't exist. You believed every Walt Disney cartoon because it spoke to the deluded romance inside of you. Every sexual element is always there beneath the surface that only you could find out about. You want love but I can never say I love you. Breaks the spell doesn't it? I mean I say that when I might want to fuck another. I could be screwing my mistress in a run down motel. Who said there was anything wrong with a gin and tonic and a cheap motel fuck. Works wonders for the soul.

But don't you see, you want candlelit dinners and romantic meals out. The fact that I breathe in everybody elses stale air exhausts me. You want a king sized double bed but I find it sexier when we're sleeping seperately. Somehow the thought of someone invading my dreams scares me. It's a lie to say I'm in love. I never was.

Besides I know you text and ring into those radio shows telling the public every sordid detail about our relationship and I've a right mind to machine gun the lot of you. There's nothing worse than hearing smug DJs know what's going on in our life. Don't be surprised to see a suitcase at the front door. I would hope you'd have taken the hint.

You think it's easy to fall in love again. You delete your mind the next person you fall in love with. Keep making those mistakes and I won't harm you. I won't be sad to see you go. I couldn't care less what happens in the mean time. No one ever loves again. It's just to fit into the jigsaw that we go along with. You really should know better than to fall in love with someone. You'll hate them in the end.

A Soulless Shell

Like a soulless shell sleepwalking through the night. Romantic dreams only make things harder. Cold romance for the lonely soul. Body is bruised and the mind is shattered. Ego we go round and round the bend. Skyline's so stark, so dark. It's an inviting place to be. It's an inviting place to be.

Like a soulless shell sleepwalking through the night. Bruises make me retreat into my own little world. If I could easily forget what hasn't happened. I'm not eating. I don't need to today. Just lend me some sleeping powder. If I could just forget what everyone says. If I could erase everything. White screens, white screens.

Cruel hearts deny beauty. Death is death and the injustice goes on. Pity for the poor family whose life has been broken through your death. Shame is what lies in this land. Grief is what lies in yours. I wish it never happened. We all wish that. I'd love to console you but I don't know what to say. Too much shock has passed through the system. I know it's impossible to get over it. Grieve for what was yours and always will be in death.

Love, The Immortal Enemy

Love, the immortal enemy. Created vampires to suck the life out of me. Destroyed by hugs and kisses. Destroyed by memory. Love, the immortal enemy. It has me seeking death and something more. You say love doesn't have to be painful but then you have not really loved. You were just looking for an acquaintance to share the admission of killing time. That's not love, that's just a way of avoiding being lonely.

Love, the immortal enemy. It defaces all thoughts, destroys all conscience. It's a marketing tool. It's a political tool. You keep telling me I experienced the darker side of love but what if it was real? Reality is dark? Reality is something that should be avoided? Light over dark? What are your feelings? Does it take your god to make you believe that what you have is love and what is not what should be?

Love, the immortal enemy. Because we all know we love oppression, we thrive on it. We want our freedom but we won't get it because by the time we "get" it, we have something else to oppress and repress us back towards where we came from. We feed the myth because we love the romantic thoughts that flood our brains when they are away. If they were here all the time, we'd get so sick of them we'd want out. Love is living for the lonely souls who are easily deceived.

Love, the immortal enemy. No amount of philosophy, light or dark, can shake the feeling away. Adam and Eve, babies and their candy......we cannot stay away for long and are made to look like fools if we are not. Rumours spread like a forest fire and Chinese Whispers distort everything out of the blue. What chance is there to live peacefully? Again, we perpetuate the myth. We are the legends of mythmakers and the mythmakers of legends. So easily entwined.

Love the immortal enemy. I love you does not mean it's true. I'm looking for honesty does not mean I want it. The casual hypocrisy we steal from others is nothing short of magnificent. A tower of ugly beauty. A monument of our own stupidity. " You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!" We are the victims of our own hypocrisy. It's funny how we're so naive we refuse to see through this. Or don't want to see through it.

Love, the immortal enemy. This is the end. You cried your tears. You gave away your fears to take on new ones. You let yourself be used. You, in turn, used others to trade off on this feeling of loneliness. You think it's not like that. You think these words are dark. You trade yourself that you're just a prostitute. The only exceptions is that you're a bank manager in the way you set out terms and conditions that will always apply. It's all the same.

Love, the immortal enemy. It's null and void. But in that space life goes on. And it's a space you want to fill. Someone to call your own. Someone to come home to. Someone to share your sleep but we all know you can't share sleep. It's private. Just like a newsreader, we like to deal with current affairs. It's the only thing that keeps us going.

Empty Love Songs

Every broken bone, every open sore. Everytime you try to connect with some empty broken heart love song. It's all so alien and invisible, it really isn't there. No love song really knows what's going on in your mind. Everything's whitewashed from human memory. The mind is blank and the sheet has started all over again. If I refuse to look back on history, I'll make every mistake again.

Open and wasted, like every chance you take to dance. A drink to think the night through but I'm easily swayed. The rhythm is not like yours. This chance does not open doors. But everyone's trying it. Everyone's got a chance. You're just an empty love song with no words to show for your emotion. Got wasted in the years of all your useless fears. Crying useless tears. Nobody has the key to open up your heart. You listened to too many empty love songs.

I know her well to leave her. She keeps believing in love when I can't give what I have not. There's no human strength or superhuman powers that can make me change my mind. There's no desire left here and yet you expect a change in an instant. She poisoned me with the radio and I shut my ears to the second hand emotions that she told me to feed her with. Second hand emotions with nothing to lose but your soul.

You think I've got the look of desire. But burn my hands or burn my balls by the fire and you'll know all about it. You don't think this is empty, you think that it speaks. Speaks like some deluded lover who whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You should run in fear yet you're seduced by madness. How easy it is for you to disappear. How easy it is to believe in love. How easy it is to forget the pain that comes after the sweet disguise.

We sing empty love songs with no remorse. We sing the songs for you lovers in bed. We are Barry White for your Friday night. We are the Bee Gees to bring you to your knees. We will survive because we thrive on human forgetfulness. We thrive on your neuroses. We thrive on your psychosis. We are what you are. We are the empty love song you sing in your head.

I spent most of my time cruising through on automatic. Forced static, radio station's made me this way. If you know the happy ending's got to you, then it's got to us all. It's only a matter of time before we see that everything you've hoped for disintegrates. Make your own ending, there's no time like the present.

Doktor Schlafen

Ich bin Doktor Schlafen. Ich bin die neue Krankheit. Ich bin Doktor Schlafen. Ich bin hypnotisch. Ich bin Doktor Schlafen. Schlaf schnell. Es ist sehr gut meine Dame. Es ist für liebe nur liebe das Schlafen ist nicht vorbei!

Oooh Schlafen. Dok, Dok, Dok, Doktor Schlafen.
Oooh Schlafen. Dok, Dok, Dok, Doktor Schlafen.
Oooh Schlafen. Dok, Dok, Dok, Doktor Schlafen.

Sex Appeal Is So Last Year ( The Factory of Life )

Sex appeal is so last year I saw it on the cover of a magazine. We are no longer victims of desire. We are no longer victims of what you want on a Friday night or anytime possible thank you very much. Sex appeal is so last year I saw it on the cover of a magazine. You don't need it three times a night, once a week, a month or even a year. No you don't need it at all. It's just the news you wanted to hear. No more catering for unwritten demands. No more romantic feelings. No more sex. No more god. No more creating for the factory of life. No more creating for the factory of life. What did you expect from love anyway?

Sleepwalking

Sleepwalking through my work again. Sleepwalking through time. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep is the new god. Sleep is the new sex. Sleep is the new mind control that I lost my soul in. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep is my new lover. Sleep is my agent under cover. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep but don't sleep with me. Sleep is all mine. It's not to be shared. We're not to be here under one room to do the same thing.

Sleepwalking through my work again. Sleepwalking through time. Sleepwalking for what seems all my life. Narcolepsy you're so narcotic. This is not a dream. This is a state of affairs. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep is my religion. Sleep is the drug. Sleep is the little pill I take at night when I can't sleep. You say I obsess but you possess too much. Leave me to my own devices. It's better than hearing about all your vices.

Sleepwalking through my work again. Sleepwalking again. It's a question of love to be your feeling of no control. It's easier for the soul. But I bet you wouldn't understand. You woke up 3 hours ago. I only woke up 30 minutes ago. You tell me where I am now. Because I don't know where now is.