There is a hint of fear in the air,
When the nurse calls him into the treatment room.
He drags the body past the others,
The soul is waiting in front of ordination room 2.
/>She hears how he stretches inside,
How his body is covered with a blue cloth.
She holds her breath tensely
And hopes that you are inside him can't find anything bad.
But the song on the radio suddenly becomes quieter,
Then his soul screams itself hoarse outside the door:
If you have to, cut him open,< br/>And get the anger out of his stomach.
Comb the cells, search every spot,
But don't take my body away from me yet.
You are still young, with your strength
It was easier for you to get the matter over with.
Of course you should continue to monitor it,
But I wouldn't worry if I were you.
The sentence fades away in his ear
And doesn't even penetrate his consciousness.
The summer flowers in front of the house
Look as if he had never seen them before.
And on the radio the song from yesterday plays,
He thinks of his mother, his wife and his sisters,
Of flying, of the waves, of the sand,
Of the shells in his hand.
If you want, they will cut you open
And get the anger out of your stomach,
Comb the cells, search every spot,
But they will take your body Don't get away from you.
If you fall, then you get up,
You now accept every obstacle,
Although the path leaves you no choice this time,
Damn, don't get lost a second time.
If you lower your head a little,
You can see that there is no net to catch your fall.
Filled with shame and vanity< br/>We lull ourselves into a false sense of security day after day.
Death simply doesn't happen,
As if it had never been seen among us.
We live stupidly, fat and happy;
You don't die here, you just die somewhere else.
And the song of tomorrow is playing on the radio,
The answer to the question about the future remains hidden.
/>If you have to, cut me open,
And take the anger out of my stomach.
Comb through the cells, search every spot,
But you won't take my body away from me away.
When I fall, I get up,
I accept every obstacle,
The path leaves me no choice this time either:
No, I get lost not a second time.

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