Nie Zu Laut or Whispers of Intimate Skies

Make wood proud again,

Drink tea, it's champagne.

From my heart to yours,

as from the cellists to your ears,

you hear the Sistine Madonna,

she promises heavens.

On Earth from the poor, she collects coins.

Tea is no champagne,

tea is tea.

Champagne is champagne,

don't promise me any proudness,

any heavens,

let me be in direct bond with the skies.

It's intimate.

And never too loud,

which is nie zu laut.

In the quiet of our dreams,

We drift like gentle streams.

Through forests thick and lush,

Where wood's pride, we gently hush.

Beyond the realm of mere pretense,

Our hearts, they share a common sense.

A love that's pure, a love that's true,

A love that whispers, nie zu laut, to you.

We'll soar the skies, just you and I,

Hand in hand, we'll reach up high.

And in the silence, we'll confide,

Our deepest truths, forever tied.

For wood's proud, and tea's champagne,

These simple joys, we'll not disdain.

In quiet moments, love will reign,

In whispered words, nie zu laut, our refrain.