"Englisch":

You look at me, I know you're there, I feel you thinking, I feel you care. No words, no courage, nothing to say, Just silence standing in the way. You look at me, but don't come near, Do you miss me? Is that why you're here? You know with me you can be true, So what the hell is stopping you? If you hadn't walked away, you'd know, You could bring me all your fucking shit. I'd rather hear you fucking scream, Than watch you disappear from me. Fight with me, yell at me, Just don't go silent on me. You don't have to hide what you feel, You know with me it's fucking real. You look at me, but don't come near, Do you miss me? Is that why you're here? You know with me you can be true, So what the hell is stopping you? Don't call me a free spirit, You're freer than me. I was just one of many to you. But you? You were never just one to me. You told me you could keep me safe. But how can I feel safe with someone who runs the moment it gets real? You can't make me feel safe if you don't have the courage to stand by what you feel. The strongest arms mean nothing if you run when feelings get too real. No fucking words. No signs. No looking at me from a distance. Make it real Or go be brave for someone else. If you ever find the courage, you know where I'll be. No signs, no fucking games, just come and talk to me. I will think about you. Maybe I will miss you. But now I think nothing from you was real. Maybe you think I don't understand you. Maybe you're scared, scared of me. What am I? A fucking alien to you? Is this why nobody wants to hold me? Maybe it's better for me not to wait, not to look back. I never wanted perfect. Not you. Not me. It didn't even have to be love. Just two fucking idiots being real with smiles and butterflies. Just fuckin' real. And now I close my eyes, because you never wanted to see me for real. You said you'd be mine. And now you're my ghost. But all I wanted was to be the girl in your arms. And hope makes it harder to forget.

Drahosch - Kosma, Jacqueline

= Eine einfache, aber schwere Sprache. Es besteht aus lauter Fremdwörtern, die falsch ausgesprochen werden.

Kurt Tucholsky (1890-1935), dt. Schriftsteller