Texty: Herbert GráƒÂ¶nemeyer. Greenland.

that was my cup that you smashed
my yesterday drained away
admit that you wouldn't like
to live inside me today

great expectations we had
what hopes burned in our eyes
but your sun illuminates
the dead pan, where our dream fries

the rosy clouds rush away,
replaced with a growing rage
the hand of promise takes the pen
and writes nothing, on every page

why do they all stare at me
as if i came from the moon ?
i'll sing to myself 'it'll be alright',
a foolish song, without a tune

i see no land
i see no end
there's no way out or in
frustration fans
the burning bands
i want my home again

you best hang on to your crash
here let me help with the sack
our matchmaking went badly wrong
i'd ask for my money back

you'll compromise me to death,
i'll bow and bleat like a sheep
so narrow minded is the bed
we lay in, but never sleep

warm welcome for the foreigners
an arsonists bouquet of flames
i know it's not a love match,
but please try to play a friendly game

come let's gather up the stars
we'll share the gems, we'll share the task
i'd let you drink from all my dreams
and so much more, if you'd just ask

he is not a beast of burden
animal to work your farm
don't hang him up, to bleed him dry
don't snap his back or twist his arm

you know that i'm your mirror self
and just like you i cry, i break
so if hell's kitchen we must work
together, is how we'll bake

i see no land
i see no end
there's no way out or in
frustration fans
the burning bands
i feel bought and used, then binned

i ask the way out from the faces
disguised by masks of ice
but no one, no one lends a hand
i need respect to keep me living not a politician's porridge
i feel alone and robbed who stole my land?

that was my cup that you smashed
my yesterday drained away
give me a crumb of your tomorrow, give me a home
give today give me a home where i can lay