| Now and then I’m scared when I seem to forget,
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| How sounds become words, or even sentences
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| No, I don’t speak anymore, and what could I say
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| Since no-one is there and there’s nothing to say
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| So I prefer to lie in darkest silence alone
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| Listening to the lack of light, or sound
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| Or someone to talk to, for something to share
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| But there is no hope and no-one is there
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| No, no no — Not one living soul
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| And there’s nothing left to say
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| In darkness I lie, all alone by myself
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| Sleeping most of the time to endure the pain
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| I am not breathing a word
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| I have not spoken for weeks
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| And yet the mistress inside of me Is (secretly) straining her ears
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| But there is no-one and it seems to me at times
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| The every passing hour
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| Another word is leaving my mind
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| I am the mistress of loneliness
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| My court is deserted but I do not care
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| The presence of people is ugly and cold
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| And something I can neither want nor bare
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| So I prefer to lie in darkest silence alone
|
| Listening to the lack of light, or sound
|
| Or someone to talk to, for something to share
|
| But there is no hope and no-one is there
|
| No, I don’t speak anymore, and what should I say
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| Since no-one is there and there’s nothing to say
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| All is oppressive, alles ist schwer
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| There is no-one and no-one is there |