Night Season
Between the horrors of what's dead and gone
and the nightmares still to come,
is there a glimmer or is hope
just another drug we're on?
An elegy unsung
into the barrel of a loaded gun.
Is there a glimmer or is this
the place where we belong?
Chronic white noise of everything.
The call of the void got me listening.
Are we living in the bottom half of an hourglass with our mouths wide open?
Are we both ship and sea of our own misery caught up in the motion?
Back to the dark, back to the cold, back to my head.
Back to what's not dead yet.
The violence lies in me fast asleep.
Defiance of all that I aspire to be.
There's a black machine that ticks away in the shafts of my kin.
The violence abides beneath my skin.
Yeah, it abides beneath my skin.
And it's all the same. Sticks became swords became guns. It won ́t subside.
And they speak of you and they speak of me and their name's divide.
No one heals himself hurting somebody else.
I don't need your pain to feel safe in my skin.
The violence lies in me fast asleep.
Defiance of all that I aspire to be.
There ́s a black machine that ticks away in the shafts of my kin.
The violence abides beneath my skin.
Oh, the night that lives in me.
Won't let its siren songs and malicious tongue
turn me into the walking dead and lose my own head. I won't let this be me.
Writer/s: Timo Baur, Robert Anderson, Julian Schulze, Christopher Schmidt, Benedikt Ricken
