Roughly translated (I haven't studied German in a few years)
Sore fingers grip the concrete
From here on you will not come out on top
These wounds healed long ago
Again gape in full bloom
Will we laugh again, or will our hands shake in mendacious catharsis?
Again, we put on the mask of oblivion
Knowing our apathy
Roughly translated (I haven't studied German in a few years)
Sore fingers grip the concrete From here on you will not come out on top These wounds healed long ago Again gape in full bloom Will we laugh again, or will our hands shake in mendacious catharsis? Again, we put on the mask of oblivion Knowing our apathy