"[...] until all that is left [...] is but a heap of flesh, with nerves bare and open, resounding each melody as if they were strings, resonant and deep, in a void of total loneliness"
- E. von Salomon
"Away," she says, "out of this place
Everything's better than here and now",
Tired of endlessly trying to prove
That she could cope with what gets her down.
Each day she takes a look, peers out through the wall
And dreams of outer s***e, whispering
"I don't want to be here anymore"
And the fields of green disappear, her eyes shut.
Somewhere, somewhere
There's a secret garden where they won't find us
Somewhere, somewhere
There's a secret garden where we belong
I understand, I feel this too,
And sometimes I want out, but prowl up this river somehow
Try to face the fear under your skin
Of how long can you fight,
Knowing that all you get is the sense of losing?
She runs, she runs, she runs ...
- E. von Salomon
"Away," she says, "out of this place
Everything's better than here and now",
Tired of endlessly trying to prove
That she could cope with what gets her down.
Each day she takes a look, peers out through the wall
And dreams of outer s***e, whispering
"I don't want to be here anymore"
And the fields of green disappear, her eyes shut.
Somewhere, somewhere
There's a secret garden where they won't find us
Somewhere, somewhere
There's a secret garden where we belong
I understand, I feel this too,
And sometimes I want out, but prowl up this river somehow
Try to face the fear under your skin
Of how long can you fight,
Knowing that all you get is the sense of losing?
She runs, she runs, she runs ...