I don't know you.

[Hook]
I never knew you, never heard your voices,
never felt your hands, never laughed or cried with you.

But in my childhood dreams, you were there,
Grandpa with the hammer, Grandma with the sad look.

I never got to know you,
and that's why I can't miss you...
or can I?

[Verse 1]
When I was five, I promised the world:
I'll save them all if I'm strong enough.
I fought invisible enemies with sticks,
sworn that no one would ever have to cry again.

In my imagination, you stood, Grandpa, in the workshop,
with sooty hands and sparkling eyes.

You forged steel, bent plates into shape,
armor just for me – indestructible, bright, and pure.

You laughed, deep and warm,
and said: "Son, with this you bring peace to the world."

[Hook]
I never knew you, never heard your voices,
never felt your hands, never laughed or cried with you.

But in my childhood dreams you were there,
Grandpa with the hammer, Grandma with the sad look.

I never got to know you,
and that's why I can't miss you...
or can I?

[Verse 2]
Grandma stood beside me, with flour on her fingers,
baking cakes for after the great victory.

She looked at you, Grandpa, with so much love,
and whispered softly: "Build it for him, please...
so he never has to experience what we experienced."

But the armor remained a dream,
the metal stayed cold, the hammer never fell.

And Grandma became sad, very quietly sad,
because she knew: The world remains broken,
and her grandson will still have to love it.

[Pre-Hook]
I've seen photos, black and white and yellowed,
your faces young, before it all began.

I look for similarities, maybe find a nose,
a smile that could have been mine.

But I don't know you.

Can't miss what was never there.

And yet… it hurts.

[Hook – louder, with more voices]
I never knew you, never heard your voices,
never felt your hands, never laughed or cried with you.

But in my childhood dreams you were there,
Grandpa with the hammer, Grandma with the sad look.

I never got to know you,
and that's why I can't miss you…

or can I?

Or can I…

[Verse 3]
Sometimes I lie awake and imagine,
how you, Grandpa, would have put the armor on me.

Shoulder plates heavy as responsibility,
breastplate shining like hope.

You would have told me: "Wear it with pride,
but never forget that peace doesn't come from steel."

And Grandma would have kissed me on the forehead,
and whispered, "Come back safe, my little knight."

I would have set off, against dragons of hatred,
against armies of fear and lies.

And the world would have fallen silent,
just for a moment.

[Bridge – slow, almost just guitar and voice]
But the workshop remained empty.

The hammer lay still.

The armor was never made.

And you were already gone,
before I learned to breathe.

Grandma may have wept in her thoughts,
because her grandson had to dream of peace,
instead of experiencing it. 

African Soul, children Gospel chor, Episch, power Ballade, Kräftige voice female, rytmisch, emotionales Saxophon