There’s something in the bush
She lies there silently in wait
Do you hear the rumbling in her branches
And the crunching in her silence?

There’s something in the bush
She lies there silently in wait
But the blood-red thread between her claws
Doesn’t seem to be noticed by anyone

And everything that turns, just turns in a circle
And everything that lies, lies on thin ice

Whoever has wounds, can lick them
We’ve tasted blood, we have skeletons in our closet
Whoever has wounds, can lick them
We’ve tasted blood, we’ve tasted blood

There’s something in the bush
She was the angel of Bremen
But Lucifer opened his needle buffet
And everyone may help themselves

Her poverty makes her hungry
The hunger makes her sick and pale
Instead of raining red roses, there’s canned beef
And monotony on tap

And everything that turns, just turns in a circle
And everything that lies, lies on thin ice

Whoever has wounds, can lick them …

There’s something in the bush
It’s still getting worse for him
He always drinks tea with milk and arsenic
But he can’t know a thing about the latter

Whoever has wounds, can lick them …