Teksty: Bauhaus. Other. Running Without Aim.

Running without aim
Through the razor weeds
That only reach my knees
And when I'm lying in the grey sleep
I don't know how to walk the boards
I open my eyes, and look at the floor
And now I don't see you anymore

There is no choice, we make the point
To counteract a threatening hand
Close my hold
As we near the atmosphere