Kunze Heinz Rudolf
Daredevil
You can't get me alive
In the cities the asphalt shook, the rock smoldered.
The bald and the dark ones closed their skulls.
/>The rivers swelled with sulphur, the Cologne cathedral sank.
The people staggered glassily through the sweet stench.
The Frisian screamed from his gospel.
The poet finally tied a gag around him .
I come from the border,
where the roosters crow like babies thrown in their sleep,
where the uneven strangers walk through the mixed forest.
There you learn wild dances
and cries for vengeance for the old disgrace.
A gray land. And a lot of anger lies unused.
We life in the Shame,
that's how every night prayer ended at home,
and the only thing that was true was what wasn't written anywhere in the books.
That New wake up am Side note,
so the prophets blared our ears.
And one Tages proliferate we ins Herz from the Rich.
It's all written
in my starry face.
Alive, alive,
You can't get me alive.
We played in ruins,
the stood there in good condition since the last war.
In between, new ones bloomed with the inscription VICTORY.
Many stepped on mines,
They were decorated and then exempted from sport.
And yet It was basically a nice time.
A TV presenter
destroyed mother's second surgical face:
She laughed at him, and she couldn't stand it.
It was my own father,
/>an epitome of duty and virtue.
So much, and not a word more, about my youth.
All this is written
in my starry face.
Living, living,< br/>You won't get me alive.
I didn't listen to teachers,
the slippery briefcases were like my own coffin.
I was thrown out of every institute, I did it badly.
Fire signs of disturbers of the peace,
The sight of people hunched over makes me sore and sick.
When I was twenty I robbed a bank.
Three hostages with the loot:
A fat Frisian who is fighting for himself Redeemer thought,
a little lady who always gambles away more than his salary,
two really nice people.
Just like the poet, who no longer saw any point.
He cheered because finally what happened to him.
It's all written
in my starry face.
Alive, alive,
You can't get me alive.
I live in the forests,
including hostages and a dozen police,
they came over to me and we breathe freely.
We harvest from the fields,
the money lies untouched in our tree hiding place,< br/>the bills withered like autumn leaves and green-brown like dirt.
I want to go back to the border,
where the wind caresses me and knows my true name,
where there is still happiness and Frollein's Frollein called.
There you learn wild dances,
and the Frisian can announce until his mouth frays,
and the poet can learn how to dance with himself.
It's all there written
in my star face.
Alive, alive,
You can't get me alive.
You can't get me alive!
Text: Kunze - Music: Kunze, Luerig
Heinz Rudolf Kunze: vocals, guitars
Heiner Luerig: guitars, solo
Peter Miklis: drums
Josef Kappl: bass

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