Jung, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer and me
Lost in translation - lost in the sea
Wandering in the corridors - deathly, sweetly
A rolling wave threatens my head - I fight it this way

The embrace of her philosophy teacher
satisfies her
She's a spark; she'll be on fire
but no one seems to see what goes inside her
Philosophy lover because there's nothing else
than going over and over about the meaning and the pain

Beautiful alien philosopher! Her lover says
but she's so kept to herself
She knows the world by books, not by contact or sense
Now she waves goodbye those days
Where philosophy grew strong but life went astray
and so philosophy lost its way
She craved living, but living didn't take her hand
She was a ticking bomb, could be that

But I declare
you can know the world by wire.
It's like knowing the world
from behind a curtain
Through a glass, in a map
Although I know the accidents
first hand.

So in the end it's philosophy and me.
Growing flowers from concrete.
A definite kind of beauty
at the core of everything