Don’t search for the world’s guilt
Don’t expect the bloody comet
The comet won’t help us
Friends will still be destroyed
Revenge will still be enemies’
But we’ll still be in the middle
Only the comet’s tail will pierce our hearts
But we’ll still be in the middle
And the world will still be not good not evil
Neither cold nor hot without shame without honour
Let’s leave the sheets in the bed white
Let’s not prepare to be blown into air
The comet shall return to its parabola
But we’ll still be in the middle
On the bridge
If we haven’t prepared our floodlights
For each to return to his own parabola
And the world will stand still mindless and clueless
And we’ll still be empty on an empty bridge
With a comet's tail piercing our hearts
If we won’t blow ourselves up into our air
If we ourselves won’t go through our hearts
The comet will remain just an empty newspaper page
To be torn in four and placed in a toilet
Friends will still be destroyed
Revenge still will be the enemies’
Let’s not wait