Текст песни скептический - канвульф

I'm dead, don't look good in me
That sticky mass under your sole
Comedies of masks another night without sleep
Cuts on my hands, the only thing I created myself
Changing locks, changing thoughts for a glass of wine
Fuck these lines, I already wrote everything I need
Going slightly mad, apathy slicing
From my window the streets are glowing red
Sometimes my eyes shine the same color
The color of blood, the color of a rose, the color of the dawn sky
Call me Canwulf, because I'm so fickle
March nights get me drunk
More poison, more philosophy and romanticism
Corrupt existence, numbers fly by
People - price tags, checks, coupons fly by
Drinking from my throat, looking at the agonizing city

Only your piercing face saves me
My life ist krieg ...
And my days taste like bitter wormwood
My life ist krieg ...
Distance still weighs on the whiskey
My life ist krieg ...
The same minor motive plays
My life ist krieg ...