Metilstone 1997
- Isle Of Skye [Text]
- Mac Pherson
- Rock´n´ Roll
- Shadowwalker [Text]
- Rip Van Winkle [Text]
- Wild Mountain Thyme
- Dropout [Text]
- The Land [Text]
- Irish Polka
- Terror Time
- Political People [Text]
- Hector The Hero
Isle Of Skye
Never I saw mountains
tremendous and so soft
green the glens, black – blue the lochs
and lonely all the crofts.
Wonderful the colors
and a smell of thyme
pictures from my dreams
Isle of Skye.
Well, I will go. I don’t no why. Yes I will go.
I must go back to Skye.
Not so many people
quietness everywhere
lonely plays the piper
I look over there.
Awful here the midges
the weather is not dry
but nevertheless, I like the
Isle of Skye.
I’ve dreamed of the country
since I was there.
I’m here in Germany
and Scotland is so far.
I will only stand
and I will smile
deep in my heart on
Isle of Skye.
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Shadowwalker
Strong is the hurricane, I can feel the tension.
The wind is carring away your name and I am alone – with me.
Hundred voices are in my head they are beginning to scream
screaming in my soul
and I’m awake – now.
Shadowwalker come – look in my eyes.
What can you see – truth or lies?
I had a dove she flew through the time of darkness.
When she came back she brought me the light – right.
Bring the sunrise, bring his name and my heart is happy.
Spin dust to gold for me because it is a dream – cream.
Shadowwalker come – look in my eyes.
What can you see – truth or lies?
When the night is gone and the storm is over,
I’ll lie in the grass and I’ll watch the sky – just try.
I’ll have fun and pain, I’ll have hate and love
but I will not die as long as I can smile – and cry!
Shadowwalker come – look in my eyes.
What can you see – truth or lies?
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Rip Van Winkle
I tell you a story of a man and his life.
His name was Rip van Winkle and he had an angry wife.
She had a terrible temper, nagged from morning till night.
He went in the forest hunting up the mountain side.
He met a little man,the man spoke to Rip:
Take your bag and have a good trip.
Drinking with me and play with my friends.
Take yourself a heart and give me your hand.
The story is van Winkle slept hundred years and then
when he came back he was an old man.
But that is a lie, he fled from his wife.
He never came back.Yes, such is life.
He is not dead – I see him everyday.
He stands on the street – where he sings and plays.
I tell you a story of a music man.
He stands on the street and plays what he can.
He sings from happiness, he sings from love.
And when he has a breake then he feeds the doves.
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Dropout
Every day getting up
ever on the road,
from time to time a holiday
but tomorrow I’ll dropout.
Never again drudgery
never ever I’m looking for a sense.
I read Hemingway and Kant.
Sorry! I don’t understand.
Oh my heart hasn’t arrived,
oh my reason has a breakdown.
Oh my feeling is not to be found but
nevertheless I’ll dropout.
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The Land
Somewhere there is a smell of flowers,
somewhere is shining the asphalt,
somewhere a fish is swimming in the water
and I breathe the life – the land.
I feel the rain in the mountains,
see faces in the sky.
Birds are singing in the cities.
Feel the voice calling for me – the land.
I wish you could understand.
I wish you eyes of the land.
I wish the end of the storm,
and always, always a good friend.
Deep in my memory
I try to watch the butterflies
and I hope that their dance
and when he has a break, then he feeds the doves.
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Political People
We had a dream in 1989.
The cry „ We are the nation!“ was a sign of this time.
We crossed the borders we thought we were free
but we did sell us. Souls of scree.
They sit at the big tables and talk about your life
caress the fat bellies decide with divine might.
They speak about your worth and think about your purse.
Cheerful regret – You never will be first.
Don’t confide in the government!
They don’t belong to us
They go another way –
regardless of losses.
Oh – we have no future, this is our knell.
When we all believe what they ever tell
Bring them to an island and leave them alone.
After lots of time they will have gone.
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