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“Fret di satt and sup di dick and hul dien Mul von Politik” (Low German proverb)

I watch the darkness from the inside of this under-heated train
And see these villages I promised I would never see again
My family used to till this soil, well now they lie beneath
Catch my reflection and I wonder what the hell they’d make of me
Wrought-iron bridges, Kiel Canal, well they’ll outlive us all
We’re just shadows trembling softly in the calm before the storm

My grandfather was a chess player and an honourable chap
And he worked hard and he was wise, with an exquisite taste in hats
Oh and he once told me how they’d toast in dialect
Just like a king who is on the black square and he knows that he’s in check

Drink it up and fill your gut, but politics
Son, keep your trap shut

All these villages I’ve walked before, the mudflats and the lanes
And the greyness and that sea air that does something to your brain
I guess I’m just a humanist, humanity’s OK
But I cannot keep my mouth shut
Man, I wasn’t made that way

Drinking in that pub the minute we were almost grown
Not grown enough to realise I was no Sly Stallone
‘Cos punk rock wasn’t popular with the local Nazi fools
I fled the punches and ended up hiding in the flowers behind the wall

Drink it up and fill your gut, but politics
Son, keep your trap shut


from About Bloody Time, released December 11, 2013



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