Текст и перевод песни BAP - Alexandra, nit nur do (Remastered 2006)

Alexandra, nit nur do (Remastered 2006)

ALEXANDRA, NIT NUR DO
′T bliev länger hell jetz – obwohl: 't ess immer noch Februar
Ne Winter he′s ausschließlich lästich
Wie dä Matsch, dä als Schnie uss schwere Wolken singe Wääsch nohm
Tänzerinne, nevvebei – nur öm ze stirve, he om lauwrme Asphalt
Kamikaze en 'ner Stadt, wo jede Hilferoof bloß unjehührt verhallt
Alexandra, jevv et zo:
Mancheiner föhlt sich he em Stech jelooße
Alexandra, nit nur do
Mir fällt en Strooß enn
Die vun Ostende bess Mekka quer durch Europa als E5 führt
Wigger wohr ich noch nie
Trotz all dä Breefe, die 'sch jeschrivve un nie affjescheck
Doch für die do "Entschuldijung!" Nohporto zahle mohts
All die Errol Flynn-Visione – für jed′ einz′lne däät si't lohne
Sensatione mein ich, nit Madame Toussaud!
Do johvs mir Bruht un Spiele, Alexandra, ich weiß schon
Do föhls dich wie ne ussrangierte Weihnachtsbaum noh Neujohr
Wie ′n Aapeinsel ennzesinn stund ich vüür dir
Un Aug en Aug kunnt ich dich lese wie e opjeschlaare Boch
Et deit mir leid dovun ze singe, bloß op Dauer, Alexandra
Wohr dat och wohl nit jenooch
All Zer'monie, Beschwörunge un Rituale
Ding Cohen-Plaate, Jacques Brél-Sampler un Spazierjäng em Rähn
Dann die rührende Versuche, affzeschöddele die Tristesse
Die wohren aussichtslos, die braaten′t wirklich nit
Denn eins ess sicher wie et Amen:
Dat wo suvill Kirche stonn, et "hundert Pro" en janze Hääd ze Bichte jitt
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Alexandra, not just you (Remastered 2006)

ALEXANDRA, NOT JUST YOU
It's staying lighter for longer now - although it's still February
A winter that's only annoying
Like the slush, that clouds pour down on us as snow
Dancers, by the way - only to die on the lukewarm asphalt
Kamikaze in a city, where every cry for help goes unheard
Alexandra, is it like this:
Some people feel abandoned here
Alexandra, not just there
I can think of a street
That leads from Ostende to Mecca across Europe as the E5
I've never been a quitter
Despite all the letters I've written and never sent
But for that "Excuse!" I'll pay the postage
All the Errol Flynn visions - every single one would be worth it
Sensations I mean, not Madame Toussaud!
You give me bread and games, Alexandra, I know that much
You feel like a discarded Christmas tree after New Year's
I stood before you like a monkey in a cage
And eye to eye I could read you like an open book
I'm sorry to sing about it, but in the long run, Alexandra
That was probably not enough
All the ceremonies, incantations and rituals
Your Cohen records, Jacques Brél samplers and walks in the rain
Then the touching attempts to shake off the sadness
They were hopeless, they really didn't work
Because one thing is as sure as the Amen:
Where there are so many churches, there's a whole hell of a lot to confess in town
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