The killer lives inside me: yes, I can feel him move
Sometimes he’s lightly sleeping
In the quiet of his room
But then his eyes will rise and stare through mine;
He’ll speak my words and slice my mind inside
Yes the killer lives
Angels live inside me: I can feel them smile…
Their presence strokes
And soothes the tempest in my mind
And their love can heal the wounds
That I have wrought
They watch me as I go to fall
– well, I know I shall be caught
While the angels live

How can I be free?
How can I get help?
Am I really me?
Am I someone else?

But stalking in my cloisters hang the acolytes
Of gloom
And Death’s Head throws his cloak into
The corner of my room
And I am doomed…
But laughing in my courtyard play the pranksters
Of my youth
And solemn, waiting Old Man
In the gables of the roof:
He tells me truth…

And I too, live inside me and very often
Don’t know who I am
I know I’m not a hero, but
I hope that I’m not damned:
I’m just a man, and killers, angels
All are me:
Dictators, saviours, refugees in war and peace
As long as Man lives…

I’m just a man, and killers, angels
All are me:
Dictators, saviours, refugees…

————————————-

One possible interpretation of the title of the song is an anagram of “German”. There’s a review on Rate Your Music which goes so far as to suggest that this song (and the entire album) is about Hitler! Certainly the overtones of mental illness and grandiosity resulting in violence are evident in each of the songs (and of course the inner gatefold picture of the album shows the bandmembers giving each other Nazi salutes – but as a joke), but as likely or unlikely as that interpretation might be, it’s at least amusing.

Tahsin Ünlü

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