a short story of

EUROPAFORMAT - JH / STH / BJ
    WAS VON BACH NOCH ÜBRIG BLIEB
    DER NEUE PLANET
    DIE WUCHT IN TÜTEN

E10:
    letztepisode - JH / STH / BJ
    mein körper stirbt - JH / STH / BJ
    im reich der eingemachten mütter und finger - JH / STH / BJ
    tavola rovesciata - JH / STH / BJ
    psychopentenon - Stean W.M. 85 / Morris Forrest
    the spanish-anti-moscow-campaign - Stean, Morris
    le chevelures anciennes - Stean, Morris, guests: Otto, Leo
    la nausée - Stean, Morris, Leo
    demo -Stean, Morris, Leo, Pete
    fish (menarche) - Stean, Morris, Leo, Pete
    concerts: die alte fabrik (vs vodka monotones / gm 87)
                    oberberg 4 udo lindenberg (vs oberberg / gm 88)
                    klimperkasten (schnellenbach 88)
                    work 4 pee's festival (waldbröl 88)
                    die insel (düsseldorf 89)
    instruments:  farfisa-organ, sax, guitar, bass, drums, coke, mattel synsonics, yamaha cs-01, harmonica,
                          vacuum cleaner, piano
 

zellwolle siegt, binbeimbaum (jao slap / Leo Wald)
r'me'o jc  (solo)
jao slap (solo)
morris forrest (solo)
the tree numbers (Hardy, Bonis, Otto, Leo & the 45 blazer (Stean, brusti, Pete))
ARK ARK SNØRK (Hendryx, Stean, Maurice)
the dull & daisy (Ste Sabine, Stean, Frank, Morris, Otto)
bashful beetroot (Frank, Sven, Cle)
hump the hostess, 67 acid stuff, helm (Martin, Otto, Mo, Leo)
la leyberg (various, 90)
venus rasant, traveling microbus (Sven, Martin, Cle, Otto), cd erhältlich bei: Finlayson

The birth of a postcard

In a house of light and fireDreams may kill all your desireBut if you stare out of the doorYou won’t find what you’re looking forThe birth of a postcard under your deskThe land of the unkind inside your chestThe master of hightech in fear of hopeTiny green spiders eating the pope In a dream of life and spiceA house may hold three tiny miceBut if you step out of the doorThe door will close for it’s a door
 
 

I am of timeless beauty

I am young at age old at heart  and bored from the startMy life’s a fight my life’s a crime  of timeless beautyLove and hate came much too lateI just watched and got boredThis is the National Service speakingTake your headphonesCut your thoughtsLet your feelings loose control I’ve lost my faith kept my hope  and forgotten about the restI know too much forget too many  haven’t seen anything at allI wanted to go out wanted to join in  but got home alone at lastClose in and live to die
 

The blackest country soul

I remember tryin’ to die by the help of warfarin
I remember tryin’ to bleed by the help of shapeless things
Thought there never was no outcome
Thought there never was no dream
I was busy counting the time when they wanted me to sing

But you’re the burning country girl on the top of that world
And you’ve got he blackest country soul I’ve ever met
Black turns to blue
Blue turns to red

But who needs an answer

There were times when we had dreams, turnig this town into flames
There were times when we had seen, what it meant to win the game
When my eyes were turning red, watching people hit by bombs
I was busy counting missiles for I didn’t want to sing

BOMBS
 NEED
  LOVE

Now everyone’s dead
 

Number One in East Germany

Sitting at the harbour now, waiting for the ships
Never felt so lonely, I never felt so good
Think I should walk home tonight, guess I shouldn’t think
Wishing me so far away, that I can’t come back

There are serious wounds
There are opposite sides
But only one way for me
Periodical change of time

Walking down the railway platform, people pass like trains
With a little luck, with a little hope
A reflection in connection with a fainting look
 If I write a letter, I’d better write a book

Sitting on a cowcatcher, sailing for East Germany
If I make it there, I’ll make it anywhere
 
 

SEBASTOKRATOR

Wandel Sebastokrator, der Weg ist noch weit
Zu Christi ins Kreuze, das Tuch voller Schweiß

Schweige Sebastokrator, in Demut gib acht
Die Zaren zu richten, was kein Herr vermag

Sitze Sebastokrator, das Bild an der Wand
Den Glauben im Herzen, die Taube verschwandt

Stirb Sebastokrator, dein Rufen im Schlaf
Im Auge des Bettlers, das Donnern liegt lahm
 
 
 

Our last song is called I lived my life in Nowhere City

Er, that was the time, when my heart left me
Or did I leave it behind
Uh, hesitation was my first excuse
Don’t worry, there wasn’t an acception

                            And if there was a reason for testimony motion, I would ... mh, ...er, ...ah ...
                            And if I can’t go for God only knows, I wished ... ah nee hach nee

But after a while I knew you will smile
You didn’t and didn’t know why
Before that I noticed how bad I talked English
I died, we never met, I just died

                                    And by the way
                                            I lived my life in Nowhere City, capitol of the E.R.E.S.
 
 

The Kill

If this is the kill, why don’t we jump in
Empty as an All-Star-Band. There’s nothing to do
I’m afraid of you, you’re frightened too
Other words seem different, there’s nothing to do
The music we here, it’s not the one we want
Building atmosphere, there’s nothing to do
The people we meet, busy saving greed
Walking just right through, there’s nowhere to go

                                            And all the words we say
                                                        Are talk just talk just talk
                                                                        And all the games we play
                                                                                        It’s welcome to the kill

If this is the kill, when did it begin
White noise on TV, there’s nothing to do
And all that we see, those second handed sights
Let’s now close our eyes, there’s nothing to do
Time’s running out, words coming in
Like watching it all fall, there’s nothing to do
Waiting for the kill, living without doubt
The night comes roaring in, there’s noone there at all
 
 

A home of our own

And now the war is overWe need a house to call our ownA home where we can kling toThe thoughts, that long had goneThat’s where we meet our brothersWho died so long agoTheir graves are filled with othersAnd what they learned is trueYour crude ideas are much too dearIt’s time to find my ownAll through the years we’re searching forA house to call our home Blinded by the morning sunThey won’t ever get our soulOur bodies in this prison called lifeWe will survive, we will surviveAnd it’s a lie, that the truth has been discoveredAnd it’s a lie that alcohol sets freeAnd it’s alie that Jimmy Dean is deadNow he’s a husband in the slums of TennesseeAnd it’s a lie that I believe my words
 
 

Children of the artists calling

Where are you going world without age
In Monheim, München, Essen, there’s insecurity
Where are you going, a hundred and sixty years
In Dortmund, Bremen, Isle de France, it will never end

It’s hot inside my head and everything’s gone blue
These times you had today are deep inside your skin

Where are you going man dog and mouse
These last seven hours again and again
Who do you know not me not yourself
Ourlast seven hours, why spend them again
 
 

Saint Brown (St. Etienne)

Everyone knows everything and sings the songs that I can’t sing
I have never seen the light but I know where it is at night
Escaping all that’s serious, I think I’ll never die for you

                                                                                                    and everyone has to have secrets
                                                                                                    just to keep some self respect
                                                                                                    by knowing things that noone ever knows
                                                                                                    Oh no no no

Today my love good bye, to watch the kids so right so nice
I have never been at school and I don’t think that I’m no fool
I am right or wrong sometimes, these drunken times are always mine
always fine

                                                                                                    If my life’s just a movie
                                                                                                    why can’t I be James Stewart
                                                                                                    If your life’s just a fiction
                                                                                                    why can’t you be with me
 
 

(Angel Springs meets) Electric guitars in the holes of bright stars

                                                                                        Who do you think you are, What do you think you do
                                                            Who do you think you were if someone else was you

    There’s a hole in your head, but you’re not dead
                                                            And the falling tears, just a summer’s rain
                        A personal affair when nobody cares
                                                                                        So everyone’s dead without holes in his head

                                Why do you think I smile, there’s a light in my eye
            Who do you think am I, if the one I am would die

                                                                                                        Watch that hole in my head, big it turns red
                                                    & these frozen dreams, a mechanical actor
    Ship sailed in vain, for nobody came
                                                    Now everyone’s dead, red holes getting black

                                                                            Who do you think you are, in this sceme of things you’re in
                            What do you think will be, when I kill you with my grin, he?

                                                                                    Angel Springs

                If angels could fly, they would and the eye, like the one heaven sent, in the end
                And if it’s you, then it’s true, that the life we could hide
                hold no secrets, no regrets, keeps it all and the fall’s standing small

                                                                                                        With the gold in your lips and silverian gilberts
                    the dusk turns to dust and the desk, without doubt, is lost
                                Good old good ones we sold, though the sad ones and me worked on motions but never
                                                                            got to Alice Springs
 
 

Hängt ihn auf

Juden, Christen, Pharisäer, Hindus, Moslems, Schriftgelehrte
Marxisten, Nazis, Sozialisten, Sänger, Tänzer, Weltverwässerer
Demokraten, Demonstranten, Zyniker und Humanisten
schreien:
  Hängt ihn auf

Indianer, Neger, Afrikaans, Pfarrer, Lehrer, Europäer
Engel, Teufel, Radverkäufer, Chinesen, Rote, Grüne
Faschisten, Kämpfer, Kommunisten, Arme, Reiche, Utopisten
schreien:
  Macht ihn NIEDER

Ich, Du, Er, Sie, Wir, Menschen, Tiere, Kraut und Rüben
Männer, Frauen, Kinder, Krebs, Blinde, Existentialisten
Taube, Neopositivisten, Brutale, Dumme, Schlagertexter
und niemand
  Hält uns auf
 
 

Picture my thoughts

Taking pictures in the hall, searching for the small in life
In my eyes I’ve got it all, but I can’t keep it in mind
There is so much I ought to know, and never questioned for
This highest high in lowest low, each impression caused a colour

                                                                                    My valuable times pass me by
                                                                                    These words aren’t just enough
                                                                                                        If only I could
                                                                                                        If only I could
                                                                                    Picture my thoughts

Take indifference as a result of never wanting anything
You’re not sick but you are old, what really is is what you think
You’re afraid of what you’ll find, when you’d really open your eyes
Don’t ask me I’m also blind, and I can’t give you advice

                                                                                My valuable times pass me by
                                                                                These dreams aren’t just enough
                                                                                                        If only I could
                                                                                                        If only I could
                                                                                Picture my thoughts

I know it won’t change a thing, and I’ll never get what I want
But it would light the dark I’m in and tell the truth is wrong
 
 

The kids, they are what they are

Still zieht Wind die Türe zu, und ruhig ist’s ringsumher
Nur Songs blühen aus dem Radio und saugen Köpfe leer
Still sitz ich wie jedermann, ich bin nicht Captain Kirk
Ich schau die Welt von außen an, und seh doch nur die Tür
Nachmittags im Zimmer sein, und morgens aufzustehen
Abends wieder stille sein und nachts nichts mehr zu sehn

Und siehst sie auf dich kommen, und du weißt was wird geschehen
Und du schlägst die Augen nieder, und du weißt du wirst gesehen
Die Welt spielt dir im Kopfe rum, das Hirn zerplatzt im Stehen
Das Fernsehen zieht von hinten rein und setzt sich vorne fest
Die letzte Chance gab man dir, die nächste Flucht nach vorn
Das Fenster ist nicht groß genug, das Licht ging längst verloren
Garantien sichern Sonne zu, was bleibt ist ein Ersatz
Ich such nach mir in meinem Kopf und ich find nicht meinen Platz
Und ich stoß die Tür nach außen und ich schlag die Scheibe ein
Und ich dreh das Radio lauter, aber niemand hört mich schreien
Und ich stürz entsetzt zu Boden und ich weiß nicht wer ich bin
Und ich stoß den Kopf ins Messer, hat das alles denn noch Sinn

Still zieht Wind die Türe zu, und ruhig ist’s ringsumher
Nur Songs blühen aus dem Radio und saugen Köpfe leer
Still sitz ich wie jedermann, ich war nie Captain Kirk
Ich schau die Welt von außen an, und starr bloß auf die Tür
Nachmittags im Zimmer sein, und morgens aufzustehen
Abends wieder stille sein und nachts nie mehr zu sehn
 
 

The closest way to paradise

Did you smooth the smooth, did you pray the pray, did you ever have to say
Anything to anyone anywhere
Did you cruel the cruel, did you fire the fire, did you take those wrecked things higher
Than the sun that shines until the end

                                        So step out to the frontline, and crucify their ghosts
                                        Tell them what the thing is, what it was and what will be
                                        It’s time to make a stand up, it’s time to make a shout
                                        It’s time to wipe those those blood spots, it’s time just to believe

We’re dressed to kill, but we’re not ill, we’re sick
And that’s the point
Through darkened days, the things we say, that’s what you’ve left behind.
All you manipulated minds, it’s not the truth we’ll find
It’s just the closest way to paradise
 
 

Winter 1938

It was Winter in 1938, and the news they said that peace was on it’s way
So the little boys were dragged in tiny uniforms
When life is fine, there’s no need for a change
Paper is paper and words are just words
And so it was covered by meters of snow
Nothing what kept us together
And noone who cried for the sun
A nation that burned from the inside
On a trip to the land of no return
Cameras at the other side of the water
Showed pictures jusz fine, but what’s the truth
And the nights were celebrating parties
While the dust was going underground
It was Winter in 1938, and the news they said that peace was on it’s way
 
 
 

Blind

Hast du mich nicht gesehen
So weiß wie der Wind und mir nah
Und irgendwie doch unabdingbar
Denn die Nacht war jung und schön
Und plötzlich, so warst auch du da
die goldenen Früchte zerblasen
Da ist nichts mehr was wir haben
Denn nichts was wir sehen ist wahr
 
 

Moonwalk

The sunny streets are empty now, as I walk from here to me
My head’s filled up with you, Am I the only one
The train has lost his rail, the paper and the last will
And what’s inside the room, catch me a star at eight o’clock
What mother left behind, the poverty of every man and richness in the sun
 
 

BIG BLACK IS BACK

1, 2, 1, 2, fuck you

Big Black is back, Big Black is back, the ugly American is back
It’s shit and fuck, it’s fucking shit, the ugly American is back
Little fuck faces, shitty assholes, the ugly American is back

Little shitty fuck face asshole
 
 

Life - a crime it is

You’ve got nothing to fearYou’ve got nothing to fear - at allLife is a crimeBut we aren’t victimsThis love that was mineHas turned to indifferenceYou’ve got nothing to fearYou’ve got nothing to fear - at allYou’ve lost yourselfAnd found someone newFrom cradle to graveIt’s all up to you You’ve got nothing to fearYou’ve got nothing to fear - at allLife is too muchFor real fools like usBut deaths - there are enoughSo don’t care about the busYou’ve got nothing to looseYou’ve got nothing to loose - but your fearYou’ve got nothing to fearYou’ve got nothing to fear - anymore
 
 

Hungry for the dirt

There are one or two thingsThat money can’t buyI thinkBut I haven’t seen themI sat in the kitchenWaiting for somethingSome thingsOr nothing at allOh boy, you’re so luckyThere’s nothing that could bother youYou live in your own worldThe hate is kept outside the doorYour father’s inheavenHe died for his countryA heroYou should be so proudYour mother is drunkenAnd you shouldn’t see herDrunkenThat’s nothing for you Oh boy, you’re so luckyThere’s nothing that could bother youYou live in your own worldThe war is kept outside the doorHow can you tell themTell them you’re hungryHungryFor the dirt of the worldMy head feels so dryMy heart feels so lonelyA feverThe innocence is goneOh boy, you’re so luckyThere’s nothing that could bother youYou live in your own worldThe wolf is kept outside the door
 
 
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