The Wave - Herbert Grönemeyer

goodbye, my life will soon en

i know they’ll all blame you

as for all the flowers i sent

you bastard, you let them die too!

when i’m dead how sorry you’ll be

all that grief upon your plate

then you’ll have to make time for me

but, ha, ha!, by then you’ll be too late

i see the headlines on the front page

'singer kills himself for love'

think of all the hurt and outrage

it would cause in my fan club

loading rocks into their purses

they will lay in wait for you

cover you in spit and curses

it’s your worst fears all coming true

newspapers will pull apart

the poor excuses you gave

a million fans with broken hearts

their tears will rain down on my grave

your life will be hell from now on,

like a wave they’ll all be coming at ya

in an angry human sea

a quick one upon your hotel room floor

is all i’m wanting you for

cost you too much to reject me

my girl gang can get quite mad

so make love to me my dear

to turn me down would be real bad

one phone call … i can bring those harpies here

and i bet my golden balls

that all my fans pull and tear

and with ugly midnight phone calls

turn your sweet dreams into nightmares

with jealous mouths like snarling roses

you will see them close in

and singing songs that i’ve composed

they’ll slowly rip you limb from limb

your life will be hell from now on…