Welcome home

Are you real?

Am I real?


I'm crying tears

at my dark window

with the pale face of sadness,

hot and cold teardrops,

rain of the thoughts of suicide,

rain of endless pain.


Welcome home

at the suicide society.

Welcome home.


High Noon

High Noon

Silver spoon

Dead friends

shaking hands

Live overdosed

Eyes were closed

The sun ist hitting,

because clouds are splitting

Free ist the light,

ever the fight

Fighting life

Blind drive

No wife

One way flight

No cry

Moments, my

Done am I

So far

An angel you are,

my lovely bitch.

You are so far.

I am not rich.


I'm standing alone.

A teardrops rain turned to start.

My heart wants to be a stone,

because feelings are so hard.


No money, I can't stay by your side.

Love is longing, deep and high,

a burning pain, an endless fligh.

I want to die. I want to die.

The last lost love

The last,

the lost,

the last lost love


Lies to fast

for the host

Ahe is gone, the last lost love


Home in sadness

The death is always by my side,

not the last lost love


Love is madness

Thinking at suicide

Thanks for leave, last lost love


Dissapointment and pain reaction

of the wish, I've never had

I didn't kill myself for the last lost love


Visions and satisfaction,

pictures in my head

I don't fall for the last lost love


Self killing energy, red coloring, red colored rage,

hiding tractable self-destruction on canvas

I won't need her, the last lost love


Respectable loneliness, new page, new age, no cage

Any later a friend died, lost he has,

not me, not the last lost love


Loneliness turned to habituation

It's hard to long for,

long for the last lost love


Painting turned to addiction

Little hope between pain, chaos and hardcore

Life, the last lost love?



I go away

I go away

to another place,

to another day.

Alone in my emty space.

Lonely, I feel, love and play.

My life is a wild, endless, restless race.

Only the death made me stay.

Indian Summer

Indian Summer,

drumming, magic drummer

and burning fire

pushed me higher

at full steam

in a mystic daydream.

Living with the visions.

Live is the only mission.



On the lane

The cold rain

didn't it refrain,

refreshing my face,

cool down inside

the suicidal, insane

and raging main,

the hot pain

in my brain.


I'm cool.


I'm cool.

Lovely Sphinx

Here sucking near

My fucking fear

Nothing is clear

Why I stay here?

Holy soul, holy hole

Love will never die.

Emotions pushed me high.

Dreams and vision things

are my lonely wings.

But when my brain is thinking

I begin my endless sinking.


Memories full of pain,

I wouldn't stay remain,

because my heart is not a kill.

No change in my life made me ill.

No facination,

no implification.

What have we done?

What have we done

on the run,


on the run

of our selves,


on the run

of our life,


on the run

to our selves?


What have we lost?

What have we found

in the ring of fire,

on the way ever around,

around and around?



following repression.

Thinking of suicide.

The Death is by my side,

day and night,

in darkness and light.

I dream and hope

I dream and hope,

in my bed she is lying.

I'm calling her on the telephone,

but she is lying.

I'm losing her,

but I'm not dying.


Many women cry.

Many friends die.

Their life? A lie.


My head was burning and sick.

My life was waiting for a death kick.

I was ill and had no wife for my dick.


Fear to be mad.

Which kind of 'dead'?

But not bloody and not red.


I would kill myself softly, not hard.

Heroin for my brain and my heard.

But I create poems, music and art.

When I die

When I die,

eye in eye

with death and life am I,

when I die,


when I die.


When I die,

no one stands by,

no one asks me why,

no one says good bye,

when I die,


when I die.


When I die,

please don’t cry,

it’s my last trip, my,

when I die,


when I die,


When I die, 

I‘m looking into the sky,

I try

so high.

and I fly, 

when I die,


when I die.

One ist the woman

One is the woman,

the Woman Number One,

one of all billion women.

Who has won?

The Woman Number One.

One is the woman,

the Woman Number One.

A hitchhiking woman

A hitchhiking woman

was standing on the road again

to get a lift from a man.


She didn't wait very long.

A car was coming the street along.

The driver stopped the car, but he was wrong.


A minute later a sticky hand touched her knee.

The man had dirty wishes and a dirty fantasy.


He had fecal shit in his mind.

He was a man of the dirty kind.


The woman hit the man and began to shout.

A minute later she was out.

Sometimes I feel loneliness

I’m staying alive

in the tragedy and in mystery

with or without a wife.

Dreams are my reality.


A writer, a painter, a musician, a sculptor am I.

Sometimes I feel love, sometimes I feel pain.

I’m dreaming. I’m feeling. I fly.

I’m loving my fantastic brain.


Sometimes I lost my fear.

Sometimes I feel emptiness.

Sometimes I miss your near.

Sometimes I feel loneliness.


I came from the dark side of my life.

I had lost my way, lost my wife.

Chaos in my brain, chaos is my life.

Can you say a way?

Can you say a way?

Can you go a way?

Fire in your mind,

fire of feelings, every kind,

between emotions and reason,

pain and thoughts of suicide in an endless, dark reason.

How many years of tears?

How many years of suppressed tears?

How many death, friend after friend?

The last friend is the end.


Too much acid in your brain.

Backflashes comes again and again.

Sometimes you don’t know what’s reality, what’s a dream.

Your ask yourself, but no answer. Your head works at full steam.

Phoenix awake

I’m old.

I’m cold.

I’m the last

of the past.


Teardrops are falling down.

I can’t stay.

Love is lost.

I pay.

I go away.


To late

for love.

To late

for hate.


I have nothing.

I lost.

I lost nothing.

I lost me.


Raindrops are falling down

on me.

I’m alone.

I’m free.

I’m full of fantasy.



is my fate.

Writing, music and art

is what I create.


I’m not nothing.

I find.

I find all.

I find me.


Writing, music and art

are my life.

Writing, music and art

are my love.


 I’m live my life.

I’m love my love.

I’m love my life.

I’m live my love.

No money

No money,

no power


for our

lady of one hour,


for Honey,

the funny




for the rich


Don't run with me

D  ay’s of chaos in the underground.

I    t’s a lonely search round and round.

A  drug is the cold and burning night.

R  eality and dream, a trip through darkness and light.

Y  ou can’t tell me, which way is the right.


Sorry, Lady,  you are not that, what I want to buy.

Sorry, I just will die.

I don’t fuck your monster hole,

because free is my soul.

A woman in your head

Love, love, a woman in your head.

Marry, marry, married, you are mad.

Fuck, fuck, you are a dad.

Bang, bang, peace, freedom and you are dead.

Break at breakfast

He was the meal of his life.

Heroin was his heroine, was his wife.

His death was the deserts, was the dessert.

A deserted dessert spoon in the desert.

Lost is the rest of the junk foot, of the junkies meal.

Just the deserted desert dessert spoon is real.

Mirror, mirror

Mirror, mirror

in my hand,

take me away from this nowhere land,

bring me to the river of light,

the river through the night,

I want to swim

away from the empty hill,

away, away, away,

so far until it’s still.

Daylight in the night


is hide

in the night

on the other side.

Magic place

Magic place

Inside Race

Inside Face

Nothing is real

Nothing heal

But I feel

I want no meal

I hope I die

I hope I fly,


I don't want to feel love again, never, never, never.


I’m so sad

that you are dead.

I wish you where here.

Lonely, I miss your near.


Texte: Raimund J. Höltich
Bildmaterialien: Raimund J. Höltich
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 10.02.2009

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