Besedila: Herbert Grönemeyer. She.

he ripped the film for her
her life stopped in its tracks
and there's no-one she can talk to about it...
it's driving her mad

a lifetime ago, but the panic
and paralysis are still gripping her now
the mad stare, clenched-up fists, panting stale breath
are still here, and she's still in his power

she has tried to put her dreams back together
and to set herself free
she has waited so long for forgiveness...
the years show no mercy
this wound time won't heal

walking on splintered glass:
keeping silent, that's what she can't stand
she's still helpless in the hands of the giant
can't betray the family man

night falls, too quiet for comfort
her soul shivers with disgust
her blood freezes at the sudden dark memory
of his pent-up obscene brutal lust

she has tried...