I want to get out of here... away

Every day the same.

My inner punk is hidden behind pinstripes.

The table set with porcelain from Meißen*1

Father on the king's throne and mother is crimpling table napkins.

Removing the snow from the footpath takes ages every day

The green wallpaper sting, the parakeet fades in the cage.

The poodle is perfumed the smile is out of steel

The the electric fireside goes out and there is she...

She shows me her world and I feel like newborn.

She cunducts the light, whispers in my ear.

All the blurred dark pictures become clear

- and everything she says becomes true.