A man made of wood hangs on the wall
With scissors in his hand
He cuts the yarn and falls down
Marble stone breaks his limbs
He quickly crawls along the ground
And escapes from the toyland
Freedom is close in sight
How long should his journey be
The sky seems close enough to touch
The cold night so starry
When he dreams of Wonderland
He forgets the yarn on his hand
He moves through the years through time
Unafraid, endlessly
The destination so close in sight
How long should his journey be
The moons pass him
Far from home in the star escort
Across seas, mountains and lakes
How long will his journey last
In search of the land
As it appeared to him in the dream
There is no thread on his hand
And no cross hovers over him
Run, my little toy man
Run, my little toy man
Weak on the path, he lies down
Somewhere along the way
He looks at his old limbs
Where once Kreutz and Garn ordered what he did
He closes his eyes full of pride
He just wants to rest a little longer
And dreams of the distant Wonderland
The night is overcast the toy man
Sleep my little toy man
Sleep my little toy man
Run my little toy man
Run my little toy man
The moons pass by him
Home far away in the convoy of stars
Across seas, mountains and lakes
How long shall his journey last?