Mitsingen

Ausgewählte Songtexte

– Army of One (2006)
– Therapy (2007, Aufnahme)
– Reclaim the Space (2009)
– God Pays No Bills (2009)
– The Masters Tools (Will Not Dismantle Our House) (2011)
– Hell No! (2011, Aufnahme)
– Collapse (2013, Live-Video)
– Nicht allein (2013)
– breathe & grow (2014, Live-Video)

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Army of One (2006)

Warfare stays the same
just the people change their face
Dreams of bombs and bullets dominate nights and days
We don’t know any boarders, but we know we belong
To a lifeless army, to an army of one

A haze spreads above our heads
It’s made of dirt and corps and blood
And we are caught within the net
We awake and drop dead
And awful noise of heavy footsteps
Echoes through the night
There will be hell to pay
Utopia dies

I heard the dying bird singing its last tune of hope
But in the midst of morning it lost his harmony
It resembles the crashing sound of a death’s melody
We know that we belong to an army of one

What we hope doesn’t matter
What we wish has no importance at all
We fight a losing battle – please call 1 9 8 4
We’re a lifeless army
We’re an army of one

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Therapy (2007)

Commercialize me / search me / digital world
I live my life online – leave me a message
A stranger wishes me good night
She now has become my closest, my best friend
She lights up a candle for me
And for everyone else who got lost in the cellar
Go browse my insecurity
I need more than just a little prayer

The monster is gone
Still a therapy is needed here
These angry wounds have got heal
A therapy is needed here
This rotten world seems deadly real

We all know what is left to weep about
Brainless machines in this land of disorder
And all those orphans with no hope
Fight their war against instability
I can’t find a candle for me
And for everyone else who got lost in the cellar
What is so holy about war?
You owe me an answer, fortune-teller!

You waited so long now the monster is gone

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Reclaim the Space (2009)

No wonder I’m not top of your list
You keep calling me dyke
Guess what this might turn me on
This might be something I like
And here bold I shout in my strapless dress made of silk
And here crawls the shame
I dread the prospect, here comes the guilt

Reclaim the space
Take over the front page
It’s time to paint the face
Write your story
No letting me down, down, down.

And no – I’m not setting the tone
Although I’m counting the days
Barely making ends meet

It’s time for rock, paper, scissors
Telling me what I’ll do next
It’s more than anyone and less I would expect
But still what I get is not part of my dream
My freedom hasn’t rung yet
I dared to change the theme

Reclaim the space
Take over the front page
I want to see your face
Write your story
No letting me down, down, down.

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God Pays No Bills (2009)

There seems to be a storm on the horizon
Yet you offer me a ride to dive right into my very own
instant salvation over night

I could need some distraction
Some compensation for my
Constant headaches and worries
Just one peaceful and silent night

You see the light on the horizon it glares
I’m more than tempted to see
The horizon and what it offers to me
You see the light on the horizon it drags me
Into a lullaby state of mind

The promise land looms far over the hills
But I’m afraid God pays no bills

I’m trying to consume the sweet perfume
I seem to be immune to winding up in your comfort zone
I’m learning to consume my identity
I’m learning to construct my identity
I’m learning to sell my identity
I am learning to be me

I don’t need much excitement
Just a handful of luck
Yet luck comes in small doses
To leave the system intact

If we ignore the instructions
If we don’t follow the rules
I’ll say a thousand Hail Marys
Mission accomplished: I’m a weak-headed tool.

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The Master’s Tools (Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House)* (2011)

Catch me, snatch me

My house’s not my house
Devotion’s not enough
Big cars roll past and you let me know that
You come in thousands

We’ve come to squat, corrupt the plot
No shame – no glory
We party hard, with lots of shots
Like it’s our space, but it’s not

Feed me your version
Phony dreams of freedom
While the paint peels off the wall
The frames, the paintings, I see them fall

Feed me your version
Phony dreams of justice
My mother’s voice keeps calling me
Nostalgia carries me to sea

Of all the places one can go
You make this yours, with all your might
We buy and sell with pride

A silent memorial of loss
It’s win or lose, it’s pitch-and-toss
You bury my house, you bury me

The storm piles up behind the house, you’ll see
And once it hits her, she’ll be with me

My house’s left empty and cold
It once hosted all my stories, untold
Gold diggers make the bargain of the year
While I occupy, not without fear

The storm piles up behind the house
Our rage’s approaching fast

Don’t take flight – challenge the stories that are deemed right
No necessity to – compromise, marginalize, rationalize, generalize

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Hell No! (2011)

Whistling, starring, shouting out
Grabbing, grinning, drunk and loud
I’m sick of it to tell the truth
We’ll take the streets and so do you

Don’t blame the victim, fight the norm
Resist the homophobic, sexist storm
You act so clueless, how could you know?
Well, listen up: “No means No”

Hell No! “Maybe” means no “No!”
Not sure? “Don’t know” means “No!”

They call us bitch, ho, slut and dyke
And we say Grrrls and Queers Unite
We’re moving fast with more than one voice
Let’s shout “Our Body, Our Choice”

To everyone: Stop feeding my shame
Deconstruct the male gaze, you’re part of the game
It’s not fair to be told: “just stay strong”
Don’t tell me what is right or wrong

Do not preach what I should do
Teach the boys I’m no one’s fool
I’m jazz and soul and rock’n’roll
And hey guess what “No means No”

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Collapse (2013)

She had the greatest wit of all,
she was the most compassionate being
her heart pumped gold and craved for live
and now it’s her who only stares at the ceiling
what made her stop, where is the spark
how can we rock a new beginning
confrontation, endless rage, I can’t be me
I have a fill-in-the-blank-identity
what brings her joy, gives me the creeps
what lets her breathe, leaves me in disbelief

we though we could handle
the fallacy’s been abandoned
aggression, collapse,
i need to rest
this shit’s up to my neck
anger, fear, hate, roaring rage,
anxiety, headache, the dominant gaze
aggression, collapse
i need to rest
this shit’s up to my neck

They say my voice can break a wall
she uses hers to be save from stumbling
“what made you stop?” they ask “what is the deal?
this is how we roll, you know, you need to get real!”
who gets to even speak at all?
they say we’ll always be hopeless dreamers
confrontation, endless rage, I can’t be me, I have a fill-in-the-blank-identity

anger, fear, hate, the dominant gaze
aggression, collapse, I need to rest
the middle finger’s raised to say
just let us rest for just one day
the world can wait, it’s been a while
the challenge’s been to not run wild

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Nicht allein (2013)

Lass uns einen Kaffee trinken und über früher sprechen,
die warme Höhle der Sicherheit für einen Moment verlassen
und die drückende Umarmung meiner Erinnerungen spüren
auch wenn diese ein bisschen zu grell, ein bisschen verfälscht
immer weiter verblassen

Der Kaffee in meiner Hand ist kalt und bitter
Und während irgendein Typ an irgendeiner Ecke
in irgendeiner Stadt wieder jemanden belästigt,
ziehe ich die Kapuze etwas tiefer in mein Gesicht und
hoffe, die nächste Ecke wartet nicht auf mich.

Auf dem Weg vorbei an Kindheitserinnerungen
Links abbiegen in die Jugendzeit
und dann gerade aus in die Zukunft
deren Skript bereits geschrieben scheint

Ein guter Tag ist, an dem du nicht weinst
An dem du nicht weinst, allein

Viele Tränen getrocknet an meinem Rockzipfel,
der an guten Tagen schwingt im Takt
und an schlechten Tagen kaum das Sonnenlicht erreicht,
um mit den Sommersprossen um die Wette zu tanzen

Ein guter Tag ist einer, an dem du nicht weinst
Und wenn du weinst, dann wird eine Pfütze zu einem Bach,
zu einem reißenden Fluss, zu einem Meer, das tiefer ist,
als das bloße Auge fassen kann.

Als schütte jemand einen Kübel eiskaltes Wasser über deinen Kopf
Dir nur ein winziges Taschentuch reichend, um dich abzutrocknen
beiß die Zähne zusammen, und lauf auf dem Zahnfleisch.

Ein guter Tag ist, an dem du nicht weinst
An dem du nicht weinst, allein

Da beißt du dich durch, mit Kopf durch die Wand
da beißt du dich durch, nicht allein, nicht allein
Als schütte jemand einen Kübel eiskaltes Wasser über deinen Kopf

Viele Tränen getrocknet an meinem Rockzipfel,
um mit den Sommersprossen um die Wette zu tanzen

irgendein Typ, irgendeine Stadt
die nächste Ecke wartet nicht auf mich.

über früher sprechen und dann gerade aus in die Zukunft
ein bisschen zu grell, ein bisschen verfälscht, immer weiter verblassen

Beiß die Zähne zusammen, und lauf auf dem Zahnfleisch.
Da beißt du dich durch, mit Kopf durch die Wand
Da beißt du dich durch, mit Kopf durch die Wand

Ein guter Tag ist einer, an dem du nicht weinst
und über früher sprechen
Ein guter Tag ist einer, an dem du nicht weinst
und über früher sprechen

beiß die Zähne zusammen, und lauf auf dem Zahnfleisch.
Da beißt du dich durch, mit Kopf durch die Wand

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breathe and grow (2014)

how much do you think can it take, this heart
after all these bricks and walls fell apart
and you will see those whispering doubts
they wear you out

you know when I was young and bold,
I’d never thought my life could ever be on hold
how quickly you grow
through grief and sorrow
have you ever felt the need
to leave the house, just like a thief
with no return, and no remorse
Aren’t we here to change the course of time?

breathing, growing, time
I’m getting through the day and night

i did not ask you to save me
still it’d be nice
to breathe and grow
some kind of stability
some kind of home

i use my hands to build new walls
and then I watch myself run and fall
this house will breathe, this house will grow
through love and deepest sorrow
sometimes I catch myself wishing
to just fly back and forth in time
digging out the hidden wounds
how many tears are left to cry?

a hundred shades of pain, they’re real
and these walls just fell apart
and they keep coming back to me
those whispering doubts, they wear you out

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* „The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House“ (PDF) ist ein Zitat von Audre Lorde (1934 – 1992), US-amerikanische Dichterin, Professorin und Aktivistin.