Lyrics
Frigate birds can sleep while flying,
I can't even sleep while sleeping,
so I set off for New York
I have nothing with me but a diary,
the pages of which I will fill
with made-up stories
and then tear out
to make myself some wings
Do you think they will last?
All I want to do is sleep, darling
I no longer have the strength to miss you
Written by: Martin Bechler, Romy Hausmann