Trashing Days
MARKUS ACHER, MICHAEL-ANTON ACHER
Then I come in, they go mad,
Hit my nose and hit my back,
Break me every single bone,
Throw me out just like a stone.
It's the corner. it's the dress,
Small the town and big the mess,
That I cause with every step,
But still I walk, nonetheless.
They're skipping backwards,
They're thrashing days,
Is that all they're believing in?
Smash my head to make it spin.
It won't change so come with me,
Just with your eyes I will see.
Just with your arms I can hold,
And keep away them dump and cold.