Jennifer Rostock U.S.
Hollywood

A short shake and thunderstorm
Makes your headstone tremble
Facades crack and window panes splinter
Sometimes it doesn’t take much to unsettle

You get quite pale in the light of the tram
No filter, no black and white, no Instagram
The sedative doesn’t work and the reality confuses you
Recently squinted, everything you own is already in flames
But believe me

In the ruins on ash and rubble, new grass grows
Don’t break yourself
It’s not like a day in Hollywood
It’s not like a day in Hollywood

Every breath still burns
You aren’t doing better, but well enough
It’s not like a day in Hollywood
It’s not like a day in Hollywood

A new start dusty and unstyled
The sand in your hourglass newly spread
The thunder bellows itself hoarse, grumbles quietly and gets quieter
And at the bottom the wound is almost healed
Trust me

In the ruins on ash and rubble …

Eyes closed until everything’s black
No freeze frame, no applause
No happy end that’s waiting for you

And where the city crinkles the deepest
That’s where you feel at home
Home is where it’s hard
But believe me

In the ruins on ash and rubble …