Ein dunkles Wiegenlied nach Rotkäppchen: Der Wolf trägt fremdes Fell und spricht in Versen aus Knochen. Ein Mädchen lebte einmal, doch nicht in dieser Welt.
A dark fairytale lullaby inspired by Little Red Riding Hood
She walks through the trees with a basket of bread,
Humming a tune that the forest once said.
Her cloak is red, red, red as the wine,
She knows the path, but forgets the sign.
The moss grows mouths, the branches blink,
The woods remember more than you think.
Grandmother's house is far and small,
But someone is waiting behind the wall.
Red, red, red – the flowers lied.
Red, red, red – the forest died.
Red, red, red – the teeth were white.
And no one told her not to smile that night.
The wolf wore fur, but not his own,
He spoke in verses carved from bone.
He said, "Come close, your hands are cold,"
And wrapped her in stories far too old.
The house was quiet, the bed was neat,
A lullaby hummed beneath the sheet.
The girl undid her crimson thread,
And never noticed she was dead.
Red, red, red – the flowers lied.
Red, red, red – the forest died.
Red, red, red – the teeth were white.
And no one told her not to smile that night.
Don't stray the path.
Don't speak your name.
Don't chase the song,
It's not the same.
The wolf is quiet,
But still he hears.
He drinks your dreams
And feeds your fears.
Red, red, red – she walks no more.
Red, red, red – behind the door.
Red, red, red – a ribbon curled.
A girl once lived, but not in this world.
