Kiss Me Kinski

It’s not a problem,
It’s not a problem for you.
It’s not a problem
It’s not a problem for us.
To bow our heads,
To betray our bro’s,
To be unable to behave like heroes.
When the house is on fire we just shut our mouths
And watch the glorious ends of those who are tough.
But if you kiss me Kinski and hold me out of frailty,
I know I could see my soul misery and despise it.
Where are these nasty books, and these nasty songs for frail people whose souls
are sold?
All these nasty books, and these nasty songs for frail people whose souls are
sold.