I Don’t Belong Here Anymore

by Goodbye Fairground




released October 21, 2016

Produced by Jochen Stummbillig and Goodbye Fairground

Recorded and mixed by Jochen Stummbillig at Kaputtmacher Tonstudio
Mastered by Christian Becker at Zeitgeist Studio

Songs #01, #02, #03, #04, #05 written by Jan Filek, Simon Baeumer, Benjamin Bruns, Benjamin Bunzel, Julia Franzen, Stefan Langener and Alex Pilz-Lansley
Songs #06, #07, #08, #09, #10, #11 written by Jan Filek, Simon Baeumer, Benjamin Bruns, Benjamin Bunzel and Stefan Langener

All songs performed by Goodbye Fairground
Additional vocals by Ina Cristescu and Jochen Stummbillig
Organ by Jochen Stummbillig

All lyrics written by Benjamin Bruns
Artwork by Jan Filek

Simon Baeumer / Guitar, Vocals
Benjamin Bruns / Vocals
Benjamin Bunzel / Bass, Vocals
Jan Filek / Guitar, Vocals
Stefan Langener / Drums

Thanks to all our friends, fans, families and favorite bands!




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Goodbye Fairground Germany

Goodbye Fairground. Punk Rock from Germany.

Get our stuff at This Charming Men Records: bit.do/goodbyefairground

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Track Name: The Egyptian Plover
Sometimes I want to walk to the middle of a frozen lake, lay down and wait for spring. And then I think again and realize I'm not dressed for swimming. It's weird how seriously we take ourselves and how little we really matter. It's weird how we expect others to put up with us while we can barely stand ourselves. I'm like a fish that has spent it's whole life in a fishbowl and now aims straight to smash some glass. One thought remaining: "I want to break free even if it destroys me completely“. The mob is raging. They've all placed their bets. They're yelling: "we are here to see some blood!“ Someone living in a glasshouse shouldn't throw bricks but I'll give the people what they want. Hold your breath a little longer please. I may or may not reveal a secret tonight. Either way I'll make you gasp for air.
Track Name: Wilhelm II
I'm "The Bear Who Let It Alone“. I'm a pilgrim drinking holy water inside his hotel room and when I look out of these windows I can't find the beauty anymore. I just miss home. You're a nun with lipstick teeth. You're Belle Starr in a petticoat with flowers in your hair. "Time only waits for those who suffer", that's a funny thing to say. I bet we all agree. Looks like the only thing that has ever satisfied me lies buried in the basements of another nameless town. Take me back! Former friends dying in offices and cars on their way to work and I just hope that they died happily. It goes to show that nothing reunites us quicker than a funeral. We are knights on dead horses both trying to hammer down another screw until the damn board breaks. We fall asleep to the TV on mute, catching shadows all night long and carry on. Former enemies turned out to be a bunch of really nice people neither worse nor better than the ones I once kept close. It goes to show that nothing reunites us quicker than a funeral.
Track Name: Leaving The Green House
Take care on the icy roads and don't get lost on them. It's been the coldest winter since 1970. Get rid of all the things you once held dear. There's not enough space in your new place and you just don't use them anymore. Every new home is at least a chance to mess up again. I'm repeating mistakes. I thought I'd change with age. Here's to good weeks that follow on bad weeks! Here's to everything we didn't know! Here's to the hope that things get better! Here's to knowing that they won’t! Here's to memories that blur and fade like wet paint on cracked walls. I'm so sick of all of this! Take care of all those boards and shelves. Who knows how many more bruises they can bear. We scratched our names into the rust to have at least one thing that'll last. I know if these walls could talk they'd curse me for every nail and pin that I optimistically drove into them and that never bore a painting. I used to say "home is where the heart is“. That was before I turned on the lights. Please tell me things still happen for a reason! I don't mind if you lie.
Track Name: Victims Of The Third World War
You people only tell the truth when you think no one can hear you but the truth is I can hear you and I wish you'd lie more often. Why can't you be a little nicer, speak of your friends a little higher or at least show some respect and pretend that you like them? Tell me why are you so sad? Look at everything you have! I know people who have less and do they complain? I'm the fly on the wall when you laugh, when you cry, when you let yourself go because you think you're in private. I know you better than your closest friends and I hate to see you like that. When they took away your privacy and promised you safety they gave all your secrets to me. But those sad little jokes that you say on the phone break my heart and make me think I can't do this anymore. Tell me why are you so hateful? Just let it out, I can hear you. I've watched people do much worse. So why the fuck do you complain? You may call me a spy but I'm more like a priest forced to hear you confess every night how you beat up your children and cheat on your wife. We all may long for information but you couldn't bear the desperation.
Track Name: Don’t Waste Your Time On Me
Let's get off this dead horse and bury it in our backyard! Plant flowers by it's grave and then forget about it within the next five years! Let someone who is more eloquent speak a toast and raise his glass while the rest of us in our ignorance will think about the weekends and the following nights. With my head held high I'm better off now. I'm so much better off without you! Maybe I will leave half of my life here but I will leave with my pride. You ask me if I really want this. It was never meant to be like this but if you ask me to stay you waste your time. And please don't waste your time on me! Tell me why do you even care? This thing is fucked up beyond all repair! I've made bad choices, so did you but now I'm finally sure. So please don't waste your time on me!
Track Name: Rational Dreams
It's been a horrible year. Most foundations I've laid seemed to crumble. I'd hold onto my hopes and plans but it feels like all of them went down the drain again. Most nights I've been lying awake thinking about things to come and my recent mistakes and how the people I love and respect quit calling because they know I won't call them back. Yet those are the best. Keep them close to your heart (my private Terracotta Army) right next to the soft spot where your enemies are. You may as well bury me right where I kneel when my battery runs dry and I'm idle and useless but do me the favor and bury them next to me. I've mainly appeared in minor roles, spent most of my nights and my weekends at work. Still, I've been in debt more than ever before while in fact I'm too old to be working for assholes. I've questioned my choices, my status, my goals, told myself things get better so don't fear anymore but the people I've always let down are the only ones I want to be around. I'm having rational dreams again of a steady job, a bank account and vacation overseas. I'm not afraid to see things end. I'm just afraid I didn't cherish them.
Track Name: Rocinante
I've been called the son of loving parents, a brother, friend and boyfriend, a flat yet zealous singer in a band that plays in basements. But basically that's ten percent of who I am. The rest is flesh and bitterness. Sunday morning 5am, I declare death to sleep, death to dreams, death to my roaring twenties. Who would have thought it would come to this? I have to admit sometimes I did. Should have grown wings, grew up instead. Should have known better but I didn't and that's how you end up like this. I just live in the moment because I'm scared of the future and bored of my past. I don't care about how things were. They're all gone. They just survive in these songs. No one's awake this early unless they're still drunk or they really have to. I really have to. How I wish I was drunk so that I'd feel half as miserable as I nod in approval to all customer complaints and try to ignore the sexist jokes they tell because the beer has made them brave. Death to sleep! Death to dreams! Death to my roaring twenties! Who would have thought it would come to this? I have to admit at some point I did.
Track Name: I Don’t Belong Here Anymore
An army of lovers ashamed of their dance moves, ashamed of their bodies, watching shows through camera phones. I really wish that I could feel the same, watch it happen and finally enjoy it again but I just can't seem to hear what they all hear. Fuck this! Apologies to all of you! Just keep doing what you do. My sweaty palms clap along to the music that I'm supposed to love but I guess I don't get it. I know this is good but maybe it's not for me. An army of pigeons afraid of boredom and other people's opinions, punching holes through dust and smoke. The choir has stopped singing. It's all done. Now let's pat some backs and run. The real world is waiting behind the fire exit doors. What if there's nothing waiting and nothing left to do? What if the change that I've been hoping for has happened long ago? What if everything's been said except for "been there" and "done that“? What if this has been the perfect ride, the best of times? What if I don't belong here anymore?
Track Name: MacGuffin
She only smokes when she's depressed and right now her hands are shaking. I don't mind the red wine stains or the glasses that she's breaking on the floor. It's not that they've meant much to me. Cheesy dishes at discount prices never make you think that you've got it all. They make you think you should earn more. I tried to be something more than just a photo in your wallet. Not just the antagonist in all those boring stories that you tell your friends. Maybe I was lying when I said I’ll be back in a week but so were you when you said that you'd wait for me. I don't want to sound naïve but I really thought forever was longer than five years. Maybe she's not perfect but she's here. I hold her hand just for the comfort, for the warm and cosy feel. Maybe she knows the words "I love you" in a million different ways but she has never asked herself what they could mean and now she takes it out on me. She only smiles when she is nervous because she never gets my jokes. She tries to change the topic and looks at me confused and I don't care. I couldn't be much happier because what was left of you and me was nothing but a shared landline and our inabilities. Now that we keep things separated you can keep the friends I've never liked and I will keep the ones you've hated. "How long did it take you to accept that I won't come home to make things right, to give it a try? And how long did it take you to finally get my "jokes" only to find that you were the punchline?"
Track Name: Death Of A Contortionist
You're drunk like a bad bartender again. Still trying to find the message in each bottle you drink. And they're there talking shit behind your back. It's what they do best. So you try to get back to the time that you spent with your wife. You bury her in every dream keeping you awake at night. You're fading like the last chords of a Sixties Pop song and they won't mention your name again until the memory's erased and only parts of it remain as the scapegoat and the villain in their children's fairytales. You stick to nothing but your daily routine of looking up the obituaries to find a familiar name you should have stayed in contact with. She said it makes her sad to see you sad but she's just sad when you're around. There's still her picture on your shelf. Don't ask for help if you don't want to help yourself. You're fading like the backprint of your favorite Byrds shirt. But no matter how often I blame those people for pointing their fingers and being insincere. I'm just like them because everything I've got to tell you is what I sing in a song that you will never hear.
Track Name: Fruit Flies
We're long done counting stars. We're counting fruit flies circling over the sink that's filled with limes we put in drinks we didn't drink. I'm afraid if I leave now I will never turn around. These times will pass like the flies in those glasses and I don't want to go. The empty bottles on the floor play us one last encore. We put away the tables in case someone wanted to dance. I should have danced. Instead we argued about Gaza, pay gaps and best TV shows. We didn't have any answers except of course Sopranos. Now the wisest guests sleep in their beds. They left before the night was over while we still tried to set Cuba free by mixing Rum and Coca Cola. At least we tried! Let's never become mutual friends of people we can barely stand and only meet by accident. The few songs we are not sick of yet are still playing on repeat but those bands will grow and change or die and so will we.