Your body is a light
Hanging from the ceiling
The curves of glass
Smooth and dangerous
When there is too much milk
Too much butter
When our muscles are hung over
When you wake with the cat
On your chest
The windmills are resting now
A tree has fallen among others
We use the corpses to shield the living
From the harsh sounds
Of the autobahn
The wall full of band stickers
And we don’t recognize a single one
Sometimes this is comfort
In a dark forest
But on stage it’s the light
With a little smoke
But the light
That makes you beautiful
Schwervon! 