Do beer foam to you

Fynn Steiner
Superstar ©2013

Lyrics

Are you angry / or are you boring?
I breathe light metal
and suck the smell of corned beef
the train fucks itself
still to town
I'm so sick of it all
I feel dull black
and sleep on pupils
feed me on the beats
that my fever loves
consume me all in twos
after discomfort
Are you angry / or are you boring?
Mining in Pink Gin
extends to four
Elan earrings
I didn't make a mistake
i want to drink with you
razor blades for me
I chew red light
knows about the day thief
I want the angel choir
at the Berliner Tor
i want the flame
on damp concrete
Are you angry / or are you boring?
We are the mayor of the night!
We hate fireworks!
People who believe in zodiac signs,
should be treated harsher!
Words should be like teeth!
All human labor should be replaced by machines!
We order the execution of all lumberjack shirts!
Escapism must be enshrined in law!
We are the mayor of the night!
Are you angry / or are you boring?

The eye of the night
You have Hamburg in your pocket
and not just any problem
but a juggernaut
That forces you never to stand still
you'd rather sleep
or see old friends
Hamburg says: I ask you!
We're going out now!
I've got something big going
and not just any thing
but an upheaval
of the whole system!
I raise capital
and turn night into day
just before dawn
I am treason
We go out
I go from
We go out
I go from
She sets the pace
you give in
you get weak in her arms
your trance, it keeps you awake
your talents are lying idle
you dance in the eye of this night

The black triangular mask
Now I'm getting bored
You are there live
I hypnotize you
with my dark red polo shirt
My black triangle mask is the night
that I wear it means that I made it
Now I'm getting intellectual
you sit naked
on a plate full of milk
My black triangle mask is the night
that I wear it means that I made it
Now you are finally
an army of their own
you cover the goose market
and I am your tablecloth
My black triangle mask is the night
that I wear it means that I made it

Payback time in the opium den
My suspicions are not great enough
I lack the daring for that
I have no relation to money
I lack great anger
I beg you, do not argue
Arguments are boring
I am the Madonna of naked feelings
Pain, hunger, sex: nothing else, please
Darkness that I'm churning
Payback time in the opium den!
My reflection is way too small
it no longer fits into a club
my beard is not long enough either
because I never wore one
I beg you, do not argue
Arguments are boring
I am the Madonna of naked feelings
Pain, hunger, sex: nothing else, please
Darkness that I'm churning
Payback time in the opium den!

Back in spite
Every way is a step back
back in spite is a strong piece
that's far enough
I remain motionless
in my hand a green book
I lay the mind bare
I'm not going, I'm going wrong
I don't wake up because I never slept
Here every step is an ugliness!
The tingling of flirting with stupidity
permeates my body with ease!

World on beer foam
Fynn Steiner, superstar
bigger than the HfbK
as Peter Handke without a beard
he outperforms
what was before him
With the spirit of Peter Sempels
let's take the ArtSchoolTempel
on the music of Patti Smith
we spit in your face!
You are the Stone Age people we are thawing here and now
We are the architects who build a world on beer foam!
Fynn Steiner, superstar
more important than Derrida
as a golden boy without a faux pas
he makes himself ultra-bar now
With the spirit of Peter Sempels
let's take the ArtSchoolTempel
on the music of Patti Smith
we spit in your face!
You are the Stone Age people we are thawing here and now
We are the architects who build a world on beer foam!

The new Hubert Selby
Narcotic chimpanzees on Hansaplatz
Grilling old Polaroids
Well-heeled algorithms in coffee grounds
Dictate how things are going
I drink wine on the car radio
My left fist is driving a movie
Sometimes I only think of myself for you
And the sweat is ticking on the last tongue
The new Hubert Selby at the main station
keeps writing good stuff
aged puff cake in an ermine
have never regretted anything
I drink wine on the car radio
My left fist is driving a movie
Sometimes I only think of myself for you
And the sweat is ticking on the last tongue
Blue nymphs on bicycles
a whispering ulcer
the doctor of the new reality
only prescribes you paper
I drink wine on the car radio
My left fist is driving a movie
Sometimes I only think of myself for you
And the sweat is ticking on the last tongue
The new Hubert Selby

LA / New York
It's all just stuff
that's the way I am
Absence has a new face
light blue, not without shadow
I can't expect anything
Thoughtfulness, we sect for you
the bones of my hand are knotting
The flute solo literature makes me blush
Because you touch me, nothing touches me anymore
I lose the time on your hairstyle
There's LA in your way of loving
I'm new york
Let's move home
LA / New York
Performance is vulgar
Movement is kitsch
a deep insight that is no longer of any use to me
I feel so weak on a losers street
An advocate of silence
who speaks steadily
says: Because you don't ask me
here my poem:
The noise is full of nails /
a spoon of lemon sorbet
Because you touch me, nothing touches me anymore
I lose the time on your hairstyle
There's LA in your way of loving
I'm new york
Let's move home
LA / New York

Everything for art

Colours,
Lover,
all my money
my teeth,
this world
Mother,
Disco,
Irony,
Drugs and
The therapy
everything for art,
I give everything for art
everything for art,
I give everything for art

Transcend,
Excess,
pop
know about the next flop
Woman with dog is looking for a man with a heart
Man is looking for the key to commerce
everything for art,
I give everything for art
everything for art,
I give everything for art

Harsh seal,
light light,
I block my vision
the short song for the long farewell
a glass of rum and then my conclusion
everything for art,
I give everything for art
everything for art,
I give everything for art
everything for art,
I give everything for art
everything for art,
I give everything for art
everything for art,
I give everything for art
everything for art,
I give everything for art

About hashish (after Walter Benjamin)

Ghosts hover behind the shoulder
it's cold inside of me
I show myself my ether masks
I count four of them
the beautiful opens up
and it is iridescent
Little wings grow from laughter
I want to stylize myself

I hear my intoxication- I ask
can't I say more
I want to dare to do everything
where we would otherwise despair
Nothing drives the mind like nothing

The desk is a booth with fruits
Point dance of reason
I have the superstition
what else do i have?
the room seems fleeting to me
and you look silly
the ways of thinking are haunted
everything weighs so blue

I hear my intoxication- I ask
can't I say more
I want to dare to do everything
where else we despair
Nothing drives the mind like nothing
Nothing
Nothing