Since two years, day by day
I am living in the grey.
I life on a ship, it’s more like a ferry.
From one coast where you want to marry,
but back on the opposite shore,
you don’t want me anymore.
So I am sitting in a boat,
over open water I float.
Looking over the railing,
waiting where I am sailing.
Depending on the wind and the drift,
to see on which coast we will shift.
On the right bank I want to strand.
To turn around the ship – to wend,
with my bear hands I paddle and row,
to give direction, where I wanna go.
On the right cost I want to settle the ferry,
the right one, the one where we marry.
But if the drift is wrong,
if it’s too strong,
the ship will just swim along.

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