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we ride our bikes around the circle in the cemetery, weaving I wave up to you on the cross am I to come upon you suddenly, like this, forever? happy, relieved that you are here and I can see you you are like the ticket-half I find inside the pocket of my old leaf-raking coat there all the time, all the while forgotten. I so often seem to leave you in churches and other islands, and on my beads where I can see you, I can feel you I take the ticket-half and put it on the table, saying: "this is god, and he's here through my comings and my goings but I walk past the ticket-half I walk past the ticket-half I walk past the ticket-half just as I've walked past the cross on our wall," our self-importance grows so dazzling, we don't see you but gentle jesus, aren't you always aren't you every hour, here? Aus Songtexte Mania