neon rain recordings : MUSIK · GERÄUSCH · KUNST

die zeit und das geschehen aufzeichnen | to record time and what’s going on


Blunt Country

Lamento des Berufskraftfahrers

The Trucker’s Lament

I’m driving in my MAN
from Hamburg down to Bielefeld.
I’m lucky to have a job,
cause I need a little bit of money, too,
for living. Other people are
worse off, I’m only smoking,
they are doing smack and getting AIDS.
And sometimes I wonder “What should I do?”

I’d really like to study mechanical engineering,
that would keep my mind fit.
But first I’d have to do my A-levels,
it’s always the small things
that get in your way.
And that is why in my life
I’ll be never anything but
a truck driver.

There’s something called ‘adult education’,
I have heard of it.
But leave me alone, “Who’ll pay for your steak”
my wife asks me, “if you go to school again?”
I know that I’m a fool,
just sit at home and drink my beer.
And sometimes I wonder what all this means.

How I’d like to study mechanical engineering,
I know how to repair my truck.
I won’t get any dumber at uni,
and there’s loads of birds
but I am just a lazy boy.
And that is why in my life
I’ll be never anything but
a truck driver.

I’d really like to study mechanical engineering,
it can't be all that hard to do.
I could eat in the cafeteria
and the motorway would be so far away.
But even as a child I liked
sitting in the grass for hours.
And so, in spite of all my ambition
I’ll still be a truck driver when I die.

Danke, gut

I’m fine, thanks.

Red hair, your eyes firmly closed
you lay there, but things weren’t as beautiful as they seemed.
Because a man from the Ivory Coast
took you away from me, now I’m all alone.
I let you go, though I had been so determined.
A part of you will still be always with me.

I drive my lorry, my hands firmly clutching the wheel.
The diesel engine makes a comforting sound.
My mates who the road took away from us
are with me in my mind, we have a long way to go.
Only on the motorway I will not be missing you.
I’m freezing, but the heater starts to work.

Make way for the legions of drivers,
I pull over at the station, the stomach takes its toll.
At the “Blue Raven” they are serving melons today
but they don’t go well with the beer and I get sick.

Everything was red, your eyes nearly closed,
you lay there, with a broken gaze.
You weren’t true to me, and so I had to shoot you.
But one day both of us will return.

When the world will be withered, and darkness surrounds us;
all that stood will crumble and fall down;
When I see you standing in the grinding maelstrom
I’ll say to you, “Your sweet heart was with me all the time.”
I kept your raw heart all the time.