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pass it off like a chore, we run lateracking for rationale to berate methe coffee has gotten cold and i summonpatience as my fragile heart beats like a drumthis is not, is not languageno this is not love at allmy veins shiver as a spectacleand you're stoic and tallget up off the floori know this is a blurred, pitiful galoreand we all find solace in heartache and griefsome sequence of warm, self-loathing reliefwe can't speak andyou poetically depart from mewritten words like a marqueeand i can't move and i can't speakthis language is foreign to mei look outside, what do i seesteam off the asphalt from all the heatand all the asphalt that i seethe steam just seems to follow meand i can't leave without acquaintancetagging along behind melisten to me when i talk, in a trancegood advice bounces right off of you at first glancewe're alone in public spaces, we're always aloneSongtexteisolated embrace, you're error-proneyou keep calling, shaken-updissecting every word thereofthis is not, this is not a languageno this is not, could not be love Aus Songtexte Mania