Sister


When You Lie To A Child






Where did our love go

Where did our love go
I wish it was over
but it feels like it´s still somewhere
I mean
when I try to figure out where it ended
and I try to remember
I don´t find the end.
I couldn´t even say,
it stopped somewhere
like it did several times with other men.
I couldn´t say
we are just friends
I couldn´t even say
you are just gone
cause I know where you are
and you are still underground.
I couldn´t even say
that you´re allright,
you are doin´ fine
cause as far as I´m informed
you are not.

Of course I am the kind of woman
who knows what she wants
so I got married, have a lot of friends
I have my child and my labour to do.
I couldn´t say I´m not satisfied but
somewhere there is this
empty skin
and sometimes I can´t help to wonder:

Where did our love go
how I wish it was over
but it´s still freezing somewhere down below
like a rotten pair of shoes
which I never use.
It just takes place
has got no space
to grow.

You know I´m the kind of person
that hates memories, photographs, letters
I always throw that away
I threw your letters away
I have a phone number somewhere but I
hate far distance calls as well and I wouldn´t know,
what I should ask you except for:

Where did our love go
is it over?

It feels like it was hanging in a tree like a balloon a little child let fly away.
It´s hanging somewhere in a tree and what is left is just an empty skin
no body, no flesh, no blood, no breath, no air inside
but still it has no end
because you´re still on my mind in my dreams and you´re coming back all the time and I see
just a little boy who is loooking for his mother
but give me a chance
I mean I could call my son your name
or just forget you, but you can´t
forget something that has not ended
that isn´t over yet
you know it´s like a candle that hasn´t burned down really
just looks nasty this black thing and the smoke and the smell and no fire
so lets burn it down to the end and say
hello, good bye and smile and let it die

where did our love go
I know it´s not over
it´s still freezing down below
but some day it will melt
to water the flowers
to finally show
to finally go.


Djamilia

He was a man
who was full of deep love
not the kind of love you feel for others
but much bigger
love for life, for the earth.
He kept his love inside his music
he lived through it.


Let me share your vision of love and freedom
Djamilia
oh, girl


I don´t know how to call it
not even today I can define whether
it was his voice or more important his heart
that had the power to awake the same fever in others
and fill the simplest words with life.


Maybe love is the same inspiration
that painter or a poet might experience
the thought terrified me,
but the desire was stronger than fear
I would paint them in their happiness.


Djamilia don´t regret
you left your husband and your people
never look back
go ahead.


Maybe you grow tired
maybe you lose your faith in yourself
let him sing his song of love
for the earth and life than.

Sister, we are more than one thing


When I decided to become a mother
I was afraid of many things.
Most of them came true
isolation, frustration
and 24 hours of work to do.
Sister,
we are more than one thing


No night life, no wild life
and nobody to talk to
except from other women
who try to live up to the image
of a goood woman
which they received destroyed and rebuilt
from their mothers
somewhere between Superwoman and
Lucy Jordan


but whatever we want to be
be straight and real
do our jobs the best we can
and never forget
Sister,
we are more than one thing


What was it good for
what I did before
if now I find myself
putting lipstick for the supermarket
what´s the use of what I am doing now
if nobody cares
and nobody shares
the problems I solve every day
which are as existential as a baby´s cry
Sister,
we are more than one thing.


I accuse myself of intellectual decay
but on the other hand
I´m not able to handle a child of one.


When I utter that I learn a lot
and my decision was right
I earn compassionate smiles
I eagerly tried to go back on stage
but I found that it was more important
to learn how to be myself as a mother
and from there on with all the experience I gained
I raise my voice again.
Sister,
we are more than one thing

Soapbar

Where are you tonight?
I took a taxi into town and now
I´m hanging around in the soapbar
waiting for you to show.


Where are you tonight?
Listen we could do it on the floor.
We could do it on the frontdoor.
We could do it in a taxi right now.
We could it even at home.
Like do it in the bath tube.
Do it even in bed
We could do it on the beach boy
with our bodies under water
and the stars and the moon up there
only there to watch us.


Where are you tonight?
I took a taxi into town drink myself underground
and wait
We could do it on the floor right here
or even in the toilet standing.
Could do it on a mountain top
with our asses freezing
moskitos will be teasing.
We could do it on the tv.
Could watch us in the mirror.
We could do it you above
or the other way round.
We could do it standing.
We could do it from behind or the french chinese or japanese ...


Oh baby, please
where are you tonight?
I took a taxi into town and now I´m hanging around
and I´m waiting for you to show up.
We could do it the garden.
We could do it sitting in a tree.
We could do it on the docks.
We could do it on an airplane.


 

P.C.


0701/1995 Tanger
7.1.95 Tanger
Kunst ist Verteidigung
Unser Filmteam hat ein kaltes Hotel gemietetet, vollgestopft mit Gerümpel und Erinnerungen an Paul Bowles´ Typhus. Schimmel kriecht wie das Böse hinterm Bett hervor. Habe ein kleines Kind und flüchte vor pittoresker Schäbigkeit zu einer Heizung, sauberen Betten und James Bond Fluren.
Man hörte keinen Laut, wenn hier jemand abgemurkst würde. Das ist wo Kunst endet und Geld regiert. Ende des Abenteuers oder Anfang ernsthafter Arbeit oder keins von beiden.
Kunst ist frei von solchen Gedanken zu sein. Wo Schuld endet beginnt betroffenes Wohlverhalten
Political Correctness. Das ist es, wo du jetzt bist.
Wenn Kunst mehr bedeuten soll als Einsamkeit zwischen der Welt und mir, brauche ich mehr als das. Ich bleibe nicht hier in dieser Absteige um selbstgefällig zu sterben. Bist du nicht weiter als hierher gekommen. Töte die Armen mit Solidarität. Ich geh dann jetzt.


Ich bin der Feind.
Ich bin ich.
Ich bin Kompromiss.
Ich bin Schuld
Ich bin Langeweile
und ich bin Hass.
Es ist alles dasselbe.
Wo bin ich?
Es ist immer noch das gleiche:
Wo du zwischen zwei Welten strandest ist für mich keine.
Es gibt nur eine.





-Katrin Achinger
-Matthias Arfmann
-Rüdiger Klose (drums)
-more to come-

no fear of JAVA SCRIPT!

(we are nice people, no bad intententions)