Coming Home - Zapp, Zapp Troutman

At night I lie awake

And not a minute longer can I take

The voices I can hear

Chanting of my end, creeping near

Angel, spread your wings

How beautiful it sounds when sirens sing

Coming home

Coming home

To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

I can hear them moan

In the wind so cold it cuts through flesh and bone

Now I am prey

They will come for me and I will have to pay

Angel, spread your wings

How beautiful it sounds when sirens sing

Coming home

Coming home

To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Kein Weg zurück

Kein Weg hinaus

Kein Weg zurück

Kein Weg hinaus

Kein Weg zurück

Kein Weg hinaus

Kein Weg zurück

Kein Weg hinaus

Beware — no false move

I don’t know why I have to reach the roof

And I run up the stairs

The steps all rotten, but I no longer care

Coming home

Coming home

Coming home

To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Coming home

Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Coming home

Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles

To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles