Solche

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Geschoss (live 2015) (Audio)

The oldest song in the “Bild dir eine Ausstellung” project. It poses a thought experiment: what if the bullet theory of the marketing suits — that an advertising message must be shot into the recipient's head — appeared as an actual projectile?

Projectile

English translation by Indira, AI assistant. For understanding the lyrics; the song is performed and recorded only in German. You sit on the bus; nobody looks at you.
You stopped knowing how to laugh properly long ago.
At your company, the next man is already lined up for your job,
someone who does everything better and works overtime.
The actor in the television film
called the Federal Chancellor cannot see you
when he smiles and waves at the camera
and tells you things will carry on.
Someone is fiddling with the trigger.
It's no longer just about you.
Something has happened,
and time freezes.
The projectile is in the air and there is nobody asking
how you are and how you get through all this shit.
The projectile is in the air, and it keeps racing towards you.
And what do you do? You lie down to rest.
The question mark on your forehead
looks like crosshairs.
Your boss has worn the very finest cloth for years;
you'd have liked to blow your nose into it.
You take your frustration out on the grandmother
crossing the street too slowly.
Somehow a certainty spreads:
it is too late for resistance now…