ON THE BRIDGE
music ©by mafish, text ©by ralf moß

Your mother was a red haired bitch
Trying twenty-four hours to get rich
Your father hung around with his best friend:
A bottle of Irish blend

When the lovers got in, you were always concealed
In the wardrobe with the order to keep still
Your life took that course until today
You always had to duck and shut up on your way

As your father stopped to hit you, 'cause he died
Your school friends took his place, everyday you had to fight
You're the son of a bitch, a drunkard's child
Helpless and slim you stay in front of your life


Now you're standing finally on that bridge
Looking down cold water
Only one step left to reach
The end of all your problems



You've got a job that no one wanted
With a pittance for a slave's employment
Your boss cried here and there and here
And ordered to conceal when a customer appear

The only girlfriend you've ever had
Left and cried: You perverse lad
She was very disgusted by your illness
To do it in a wardrobe with a gag in the fauces

In the footsteps of your father, you began to drink
With the obvious success, that your bladder shrunk
So you sat on your pot most of your time
Dry as before in spite of your prime


Maybe some day you'll spring from a diving-board
But they've let out the water and you'll clash on the floor
Maybe some day you'll spring from a bridge to finish
And it happens the only thing that works in all that rubbish

You are able to swim, you are able to swim
And you swim - miles and miles you swim
You are such a blessed swimmer, an Olympic winner
...

You are able to swim, you are able to swim
And you swim - miles and miles you swim
You are such a blessed swimmer, an Olympic winner
But it's somehow mad that you swim with your feet...
...ahead


Now you're standing finally on that bridge
Looking down cold water
Only one step left to reach
The end of all your problems