Testo: Herbert Grönemeyer. Alcohol.

we hit the dark rooms at the dying of the light
and for developments await
the day beginning with the coming of the night
i take my breakfast at eight p.m.

i list the promises i've given to myself
the world's at fourty degrees
messages in bottles wait upon the bar-room shelf
i count them off in twos and threes
there's something ironic
in unspoken jest
my nerves take a tonic
and the world takes the rest

alcohol is an ambulance, a fighting ship
alcohol gives the hand that shakes a steady grip
alcohol is the scorpion in a lucky dip
alcohol, alcohol

i wall my thoughts up with a plaster skim
like chewing gum they all congeal
through glasses, darkly, i observe that's me that's him
some kind of skeleton is hazily revealed...
nothing's the matter
nothing has changed
i'm mad as a hatter
but feeling no pain

alcohol is the angel's kiss upon your lips
alcohol is the sorceror's apprenticeship
alcohol is the parachute that never rips
alcohol is the jacket that you can't unzip
alcohol is the searchlight and a neon strip
alcohol is the answer at your fingertips
alcohol - the casino where you cash your chips
alcohol, alcohol, alcohol

alcohol is an ambulance, a fighting ship
alcohol gives the hand that shakes a steady grip
alcohol is the scorpion in a lucky dip
alcohol is the jacket that you can't unzip
alcohol is the searchlight and a neon strip
alcohol is the answer at your fingertips
alcohol - the casino where you cash your chips
alcohol, alcohol, alcohol

alcohol is the angel's kiss upon your lips
alcohol is the sorceror's apprenticeship
alcohol is the parachute that never rips
alcohol is the jacket that you can't unzip
alcohol is the searchlight and a neon strip
alcohol is the answer at your fingertips
alcohol - the casino where you cash your chips
alcohol, alcohol, alcohol