On the Run
(S. Weber/M. Schumpelt/J.O. Soerup)
just like a small explosion when he hits the balls to break
all his hopes of private glory lying on this frame
some balls
He feels so secure - the winning smile is on his face
but it starts to fade away with every shot I make
deep inside of me a certain feeling starts to grow
grinning shapes get on my face
my perfect mask turns black to blue
believe in friendly perjuries, who cares about the compliment's malice ?
I might feel superior, but there's a voice, a fear I'll fail it raises
anytime they seem to laugh behind my back
and there's a voice, a fear I'll fail, it raises anyway
you wanted to meet a friend, to play a bit, to have some fun
I play to win, to satisfy my personal desire
perpetual invasion of destructive thoughts
ambiguous words will fix attention
they make me revise - make me analyse - realize
while visions confuse your weakening reason
though I'm sure to win I long to expect the worst
when everyone's laughing behind my back
and there's a voice, a fear I'll fail it raises anyway
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