Weekend in Berlin, a plane to The East,
Not Barcelona, not Milan and not Nice.
The voting system's rigged, procedurally fixed,
I wanted Paris, the reaction was mixed.
Going where we want to,
Running round the streets,
In the snow because we want to.
I've got someone to meet, a house in the woods,
Don't know a single face in this neighbourhood.
The moon in Kreuzberg shines silver and blue,
Don't know who's waiting, who's waiting for you.
Going where we want to,
Running round the streets,
In the snow because we want to.
Eisern!
As all over town, the snow's falling down.
But we're looking round for those holes in the ground.
Train from the TV tower to the edge of town,
Far from the lime trees with the snow on the ground.
The Abseitsfalle lights. The grounds by the sea.
Dark crystal nights alone on the street.
Going where we want to,
Running round the streets,
In the snow because we want to.
Eisern!
All over town, the snow's falling down.
But we're looking round for those holes in the ground.
The path leads to the trees,
It worries me it seems,
Unsafe, not great,
Waiting to take us to the woods.