Touched in Dreams

Every object you've touched in your dreams
He got up in the morning like a great mystery
Don't tell me that I'm a bird that an arrow is aiming at
And let the mirrors lie on our way to the table

Sing about the good arrow that lies until morning
Don't tell me that I'm a bird that an arrow is aiming at

And everyone said, of course just to justify themselves
And everyone had their own weighty word
Don't tell me that I'm a bird that an arrow is aiming at

You know the symbols of good and evil
And you're right about the calculation
And every object is like a great mystery
The throat was like a trigger for words
Don't tell me that I'm a bird that an arrow is aiming at

And every time you saw me
You lay face down on the floor
And I, pouring wine into glasses
Sat down at the table in silence
And it wasn't until I was drunk
That I realized you were that bird
Which the arrow
Is aiming at