Ich Lass Für Dich Das Licht An paints a cozy, late-night postcard: two lovers wandering home with wine-stained lips, sharing an oversized coat, and hopping on squeaky bikes to watch the sunrise over the harbor. Every scene glows with small, relatable details—cold morning air, half-loved vinyl records, cheesy movies—that show how far the singer will go to keep the magic of the moment alive.
Beneath the charming imagery lies a universal message: real love isn’t proved by grand declarations but by the everyday compromises we happily make. From leaving the light on even when it feels blinding to enduring bands and melodramatic films we secretly dislike, the song celebrates selfless devotion. These repeated promises—“Ist mir alles egal, Hauptsache du bist da” (“Everything else is irrelevant, as long as you’re here”)—remind us that love is about putting someone else’s joy before our own, one heartfelt, ordinary gesture at a time.
Feeling suffocated by skyscrapers and never-ending notifications? Revolverheld’s catchy anthem "Lass Uns Gehen" grabs the keys, turns up the guitars, and shouts, "Let’s get out of here!" The verses paint a grey cityscape where people rush, phones buzz, and the sky is hidden behind concrete. The singer admits he "can’t breathe" and is "always reachable yet reaching nothing," perfectly capturing modern urban burnout.
Then comes the irresistible invitation: leave Hamburg, Berlin, or Cologne behind, follow the highway until the rain stops, and trade neon lights for the rhythm of the sea and the waves. The repeated chorus "Lass uns gehen" becomes a liberating rally cry for road-trip dreamers who long for fresh air, open horizons, and maybe even a Swedish summer. Half protest song, half adventure soundtrack, it reminds us that sometimes the quickest route to happiness is simply to pack up, crank the music, and drive toward the seaside sunrise.
Imagine slamming the door on a toxic romance and turning the volume up on your own freedom. In "Keine Liebeslieder," Revolverheld tells the story of someone who is finally fed up with a relationship that looks perfect on the outside but feels like rubble on the inside. The singer sells their partner’s records, tosses them out, and declares, “I don’t want love songs anymore!” It is a bold breakup anthem that swaps sweet serenades for fierce self-respect.
Throughout the lyrics, we hear a tug-of-war between lingering affection and the need to escape manipulation. The partner seems flawless yet impossible, laughing while breaking hearts and refusing to hate back. Tired of living on obligatory feelings, the narrator calls out the exaggerations, smashes the silence, and blocks any return path. By the final chorus, the message is clear: sometimes the strongest love song is actually the sound of saying goodbye.
Revolverheld takes us on a nostalgic roller-coaster that begins with a dreamy Rilke quotation and lands in the raw confession “Deine Nähe tut mir weh” (Your closeness hurts me). The lyrics read like a scrapbook: childhood summers on a boat jetty, pinky-sworn friendships, Friday dinners, playful bar banter, even a hospital corridor. Threaded through these scenes is Hannah, the lifelong friend with freckles and an easy laugh. For the singer, every memory glows with possibility, yet every moment in her presence stings, because he secretly wants more than friendship.
Beneath the warm storytelling lies a deeper ache – the pain of unspoken love. Years roll by, words stay stuck, and closeness becomes a bittersweet reminder of what might have been. Revolverheld captures that tension perfectly: gentle, floating verses mirror carefree childhood, while the soaring chorus erupts with the frustration of loving someone who only sees a friend. It is a heartfelt anthem about friendship teetering on the edge of romance, the silence that grows between the lines, and the paradox of being hurt most by the people we hold dearest.
“Halt Dich An Mir Fest” – literally “Hold on to me tight” – drops us into a late-night moment between two partners when doubt has started to creep in. The photos are off the walls, sleep is restless, and the caller on the other end of the line no longer knows what truly moves them. Over steady guitars and a driving beat, Revolverheld and guest singer Marta Jandová turn this private crisis into a cinematic scene: one person breaking apart, the other refusing to let them fall, whispering, “I’ll leave the light on, just grip my hand.”
At its heart, the song is a rallying cry for radical togetherness. The chorus – “Halt dich an mir fest, wenn dein Leben dich zerreißt” – reminds us that when life feels like it is ripping you to pieces, holding on to someone who believes in you can be your lifeline. It celebrates vulnerability as strength, showing that hope, resilience, and the promise of we’ll get through this side by side are sometimes all we need to find our way out of the dark.
“Spinner” is Revolverheld’s shout-out to everyone who has ever been called crazy for dreaming big. Verse by verse we meet ordinary people with extraordinary hopes: a bedroom rockstar who belts out songs to his mirror, a job-seeker who never stops sending résumés, a future world-traveler counting every coin, an aspiring Hollywood actress stuck in small-town roles, a would-be Elvis reborn, and a hard-working waitress saving for her own café. They may look stuck in routine jobs and small rooms, yet inside they are buzzing with plans too wild for the doubters around them.
The chorus flings the doors wide open: “Lass dein altes Leben hinter dir… das geht raus an alle Spinner!” Roughly, that means “Leave your old life behind… this one goes out to all the dreamers!” The song turns the German word Spinner (literally “nutcase”) into a badge of honor, insisting that these so-called oddballs are actually the winners. Limits? None. Timeline? From today, forever. It is an anthem for anyone who has saved pennies for a far-off trip, rehearsed in secret, or scribbled plans in the margins—proof that without daring dreamers like you and me, life would have no spark at all.
Feel like your life is stuck on pause? "Du Explodierst" is Revolverheld’s sonic energy drink. The lyrics paint an action-movie picture: you jump off a cliff without a parachute, your bloodstream turns into nitroglycerin, and the only fuel in your tank is pure adrenaline. Today is the day that’s been circled in red on your calendar, and every fiber of your being knows exactly what comes next: an unstoppable blast of pent-up power.
Beneath the fireworks imagery, the song is a rallying cry to break free from a numb, half-alive existence. It urges you to crawl out of your own metaphorical grave, shake off the frost of indifference, and let every emotion detonate outward. When the chorus shouts “Du explodierst,” it’s cheering for that moment when you finally rip off the restraints, scream your truth to the world, and earn a standing ovation for simply being fully alive.
“Mit Dir Chilln” paints the picture of someone who is maxed-out by modern life: sizzling summer heat, nonstop stress and the annoying leftovers of yesterday’s problems. The singer feels trapped in a cycle of “too little time and too much loneliness,” dreaming of a simple wish—to switch everything off and hang out with one special person.
In this feel-good escape anthem, Revolverheld invites that person to “wander away and move into this song,” letting time stand still while the rest of the world spins on without them. It’s a celebration of slowing down, soaking up the sunshine and rediscovering joy in shared, unhurried moments. At its heart, the track says: when life gets overwhelming, the best remedy is to pause the clock, ignore the chaos and just chill together.
“Unzertrennlich” is a euphoric celebration of a bond so strong it bends time itself. Picture two adventurers standing side by side on a windy beach: the sand is slipping away, waves keep crashing back, yet the pair feel perfectly still, locked in a single, glowing instant. The lyrics ask, “Bist du da, wo ich auch bin?” and answer with a resounding yes; every heartbeat, every dream and every tide proves they are inseparable and unvergänglich—unfading.
At its core, the song urges us to seize the “frozen second” where we truly connect. When the duo decides to “live the moment, where time begins,” they transform ordinary seconds into an endless universe that only the two of them can inhabit. It is a reminder that love, friendship or any unbreakable partnership can make the present feel infinite, turning life’s fleeting waves into an everlasting tide of togetherness.
„Wenn Du Jetzt Hier Wärst“ is a heartfelt postcard from loneliness. The narrator bikes through dusty streets, lights secret cigarettes, and tries every distraction imaginable, yet every corner of the city whispers the same thought: “It would all be better if you were here.” Revolverheld paint a vivid picture of that in-between mood where you are neither furious nor fine, just stuck in a grey summer that refuses to shine without the missing person.
Behind the catchy chorus lies a simple, charming promise: “I would even do a handstand to make you laugh.” The song celebrates nostalgia for “the good old times,” admits to sleepless nights and visible eye-bags, and dreams of swapping solo adventures for shared moments again. It is a mix of humor and homesickness that reminds us how the right person can turn an ordinary day into an adventure—and how their absence turns even adventures into ordinary days.