While the light is off,
it's morning outside,
the air filters into my mouth
pale and sweet cigarette...
Without a smile and without desire for gusts of wind,
without mastery the smoke burns in the eyes and meanwhile the tears remain in the eyes the taste of your hands on them remains...
shiver and meanwhile tears shine with their own silver.
Pretend with my face turned
I turn off the love of my filter
it drips into the void a jump
sniper's shot
The tears remain in the eyes
the taste of your hands remains on me...
shiver... and meanwhile tears
shine with their own silver
they shine, the cheeks shine...
down from the eyelashes until they wet the chin.. .

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN