Island - Live Melkweg 19/03/1981

My mouth is dry
My skin is red
Bodyheat is rising
Not a living soul walks around
Lizards move about and scratch
The mountains are silent
Solid rock that slowly changes
The sand is hot
I keep on to crawl
Palm trees and the image of water
The fantasy of an island in the ocean

A mysterious man saves me
And takes me for a ride

Rollercoaster on the beach in a resort town
Programmed not to stop
I tighten my grip on the metal hand-piece
The black hands of a piano player come from behind
And put a silk scarf around my neck
Fast fast upwards

I hear a high note
It is too late
Pass out in heaven
Escape from day-to-day routine



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