Running rings in the rain under emotional strain
You only carve out the time for complaining
This is as far as it goes, we top a minor plateau
And soak it up from head to totally deranged
In and out of the clouds there are no voices allowed
And so we head southeast by south
Try to lighten the load or make a fork in the road
So we don't have to take the longer way around
An unfortunate end before we ever begin
And now it's finally sinking in
This is a hell of a thing and all the traps we could spring
Will have them squirming in their skin
One fell swoop of the hand
Dug deep in the sand
Like Custer's Last Stand
We could fight in the dirt
Hitch a wagon to words
Undeterred

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN