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In the evening, nothing is a bother |
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Everyone is partying |
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Many glowing faces |
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And no ones mind's on leaving |
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When sooner |
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The two of us forsaking |
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Had long discussed the matter |
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And made an end in breaking |
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I'd moved into this house alone |
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My jacket like an awning |
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Oh, and it was hailing |
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But this evening, nothing here reminds me |
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There the coat is hanging |
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We're talking and we're laughing |
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After we darken up our home |
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You see my hands are trembling from an uneasy knowing |
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Maybe a moth can live this way |
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A false light always facing |
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And cannot turn away |
