Текст песни
Don't touch with your hands," they tell me!
But the body reaches out to begin.
Details from here, my head is spinning.
No need for success — for it's time.
With lips I whisper, hands in a fuss.
Above us — the weather, or rather — a river.
Charisma is a trap. Friends — not always!
It's no easier with me, with me comes spring!
Hands, hands — what's the price of a head?
Don't touch with your hands — an avalanche of sand!
Hands, hands — a rough and jagged stream.
Dry land, dry land — take it for our gain.
Now tell me a fairy tale,
About a Lord in the quicksand.
About rum, stronger in spirit
Than the hands of the king himself!
Hands, hands — what's the price of a head?
Don't touch with your hands — an avalanche of sand!
Hands, hands — a rough and jagged stream.
Dry land, dry land — take it for our gain.
Where do I go? Where do I leave myself?
What am I allowed within the borders of bounds?
Why? It's dangerous there, they tell me,
Just to keep me safe.
Tell me honestly — in which courtyards
Will I find my childhood, in the bright winds?
So what's up, let's talk straight like men?
What laws do you have around here, for the song?
In my hand — a sword and a shot of vanilla milk.
No need for worries — for I am emptiness!
Hands, hands — what's the price of a head?
Don't touch with your hands — an avalanche of sand!
Hands, hands — a rough and jagged stream.
Dry land, dry land — take it for our gain.
Hands, hands — what's the price of a head?
Hands, hands — what's the price of a head?
It is priceless.
