Wincent Weiss rewinds the film of his love story, replaying sun-soaked streets, a tiny flat with a mattress on the floor, and winter days that felt like summer. He recalls arguments that ended in Ich liebe dich instead of apologies and realizes he has finally found what he spent so long searching for. Each snapshot shows how ordinary moments—napping side by side, wandering endless roads—quietly built an unshakeable bond.
Faced with the fear that life is too short, the singer blurts out a deceptively simple request: Hast du kurz Zeit? Do you have a moment to share the rest of your life with me? The track is both a spontaneous proposal and a reminder to seize love before doubt creeps in. By wrapping big feelings inside casual words, Wincent Weiss turns everyday memories into a promise of “fifty years—maybe more,” celebrating the courage it takes to ask someone to stay forever.
Hier Mit Dir is Wincent Weiss’s warm hug of a song that celebrates the magic of reunion. Picture old friends meeting at night, wandering carefree through familiar streets while the city sleeps. The daily grind melts away, adrenaline and laughter rush through their veins, and suddenly it feels like no time has passed at all. In that sparkling moment, being together is so effortless that nothing else seems to matter.
Even though many friends have scattered to Hamburg, Munich, or Berlin, the bond remains unbreakable. Whenever they manage to reconnect, this shared space becomes “the best place in the world” and “the best time in the world.” The song is a joyful reminder that true closeness can outlast distance and years, and that sometimes the greatest adventure is simply standing right here with the people who know you best.
Spring captures the exhilarating moment just before you jump off a high diving board into icy water: heart racing, nerves buzzing, but excitement winning. Wincent Weiss and FOURTY turn that rush into a life lesson, urging us to breathe in, breathe out, then spring toward our dreams. The chorus’ mantra, “Verschwende keinen Augenblick” (Don’t waste a single moment), reminds us that time only moves forward, so we should make space for our ambitions right now.
Behind the energetic beat, the artists share their own stories of chasing goals without guarantees, collecting scars like trophies, and trusting karma to reward hard work. Their message is clear: one brave step can open new paths, new luck. Whether you are debating a career change, a creative project, or simply trying something new in everyday life, this song is a motivational soundtrack that says, “Feel that tingle in your stomach? That is the start of something amazing. Jump!”
Wincent Weiss’ “Morgen” is an anthem of pure anticipation. The German singer paints the feeling we all get on the night before a big adventure: butterflies in the stomach, restless excitement, and the wish that the clock would spin faster. Each line bursts with optimism as he shakes off yesterday’s doubts and shouts, “Los, worauf wart ich noch?” (“Come on, what am I waiting for?”). The song celebrates daring to dream, packing away old worries, and finally believing that the best is yet to come.
Listen closely and you’ll hear a roadmap for turning hope into action:
“Morgen” is more than a pop track; it is a musical pep talk reminding us that tomorrow is a blank page waiting to be filled with new places, bold choices, and a lighter heart.
Wincent Weiss’s song Pläne is a bittersweet look at what happens when a shared future suddenly falls apart. Line by line, the singer flips through an imaginary photo album of promises: traveling the world, lazy days in bed, a seaside home in the North, a wedding ring, kids, growing old together. Every dream feels vivid and specific, yet now each one is followed by the same aching question: “What happened to all of it?” The chorus drives the pain home: plans are useless if the person you built them with is gone.
Rather than focusing on anger or blame, the song lingers on that stunned, empty moment after a breakup when you realize you know every road map, every next step – but you no longer have your co-pilot. Pläne turns lost future goals into a powerful metaphor for love itself: the trips, houses, and children were never the real destination, the relationship was. Without it, even the best-laid plans crumble like sandcastles at high tide.
“Wer Wenn Nicht Wir” celebrates a partnership that fits together like two puzzle pieces. Wincent Weiss sings about two people who balance each other perfectly: when one overthinks, the other acts on impulse; when one soars too high, the other gently grounds them. The chorus asks, “Who, if not us?”—a confident reminder that this duo can face any moment, big or small, as long as they stay side by side.
The song’s heart beats around a simple revelation: the little things are enough. Late-night talks, shared laughter, and mutual support create a bond strong enough to weather every high and low. It is an uplifting anthem for anyone who has found—or hopes to find—that special someone who makes life lighter and brighter just by being there.
“An Wunder” turns everyday heartbreak into a pep-talk for believers in love. Wincent Weiss sings from the point of view of someone whose relationship feels cramped and ready to crack: “Meine Welt ist gerade zu klein, und deine passt da scheinbar nicht rein.” Yet for every “thousand reasons to leave,” there is “one reason to stay.” The narrator clings to that single spark, convinced it would be “schön blöd”—pretty silly—“nicht an Wunder zu glauben,” not to believe in miracles.
Instead of wallowing in sadness, the song urges risk and optimism. Time apart, doubts, and obstacles pile up, but the chorus keeps pushing the couple toward the brave choice: bet on the bond, trust the “maybe,” and chase the miracle of making it work. “An Wunder” is a catchy reminder that love often survives on hope the size of a heartbeat, and that sometimes the smartest move is the one that feels wildly, wonderfully impossible.
“Musik Sein” is Wincent Weiss’s joyful reminder that every great moment deserves its own soundtrack. The song jumps from a groggy, coffee-slow morning after an epic night to the awkward hush when someone special slips out the door, and Weiss fills those gaps with an imaginary orchestra—trumpets, strings, pounding drums, and a soft piano—because silence feels wrong when emotions are so loud.
Next he packs his best friends for a spontaneous road-trip to the sea, letting the crash of waves blend with the beat. The hook da müsste Musik sein (there should be music) rings out like a mantra: whether we are falling in love, getting knocked over by life, or feeling drunk on happiness, music should follow us everywhere, replaying our brightest memories again and again. The song celebrates how melodies turn everyday scenes into cinematic highlights and invites listeners to press play on their own adventures.
Wincent Weiss’s “Feuerwerk” is a sparkling pep-talk set to music. Picture sprinting to catch your train, breathless from another hectic day, then bursting through the door of your favorite hangout where the same loyal crew is waiting. The verses capture that familiar grind of work, deadlines, and being late again, but the moment the friends reunite, stress melts away. They remember a promise they once made: never wait for tomorrow.
The chorus explodes like the title suggests. Living “wie ein Feuerwerk” means seizing every second, lighting up the sky with your joy, even if the blaze only lasts a heartbeat. Weiss urges us to burn bright, laugh loud, and collect memories before they drift into “ash and recollection.” In short, the song is a high-voltage reminder to celebrate the now, treasure your squad of “clowns and heroes,” and shoot every last rocket of possibility into the night.
Need a breath of Frische Luft? Wincent Weiss sings about that restless moment when everything familiar starts to feel too small. He is still “the boy from the old stories,” yet his hometown and even a once-cozy relationship now feel stifling. The chorus bursts out like opening a window: “I need fresh air so I can breathe again.” It is a catchy reminder that stepping into the unknown can be healthier than staying in a place where you are gasping for space.
The song captures the bittersweet mix of excitement and fear that comes with change. Weiss admits he will “miss a piece” of what he leaves behind, but he trusts that “when something ends, something new begins.” With every beat, he zips up his jacket, heads for the door, and invites us to join him on a walk toward new horizons and renewed self-belief.
Picture the bittersweet moment on a train platform: suitcases rattling, cold rails humming, and two people clinging to each other for one last, tight hug. That is where Wincent Weiss begins “Nur Ein Herzschlag Entfernt,” a song that turns the pain of saying goodbye into a promise of unbreakable closeness. While miles, clocks, and crowds might separate the couple, the singer insists that emotional distance never stretches beyond a single heartbeat. Polaroid snapshots, imagined reunions, and the steady rhythm of a heart all serve as gentle reminders that love travels faster than any train.
Beyond its tender farewell scene, the track is a warm reassurance to anyone facing a long-distance relationship—or any kind of separation. No matter how many “straps snap” or how different life paths become, the chorus repeats a simple vow: I’m always just one heartbeat away. It is a lyrical safety net for lonely days, encouraging the listener to reach inward and feel that comforting thump that means their person is right there with them. Weiss wraps nostalgia, hope, and steadfast devotion into an upbeat pop package, making this song both a tearjerker and an energy boost for anyone missing someone special.
Picture a silent, starlit Christmas Eve: a small boy taps his toy drum while following a bright star through quiet streets. He reaches the humble stable where baby Jesus lies, surrounded by majestic kings with glittering gifts. The boy worries he will not be welcome—after all, he has no gold, no silver, only the rhythm in his hands. Yet, with every “ta ram tam tam,” he offers the one treasure he does have: his heartfelt music.
Wincent Weiss’s “Der Kleine Trommler” celebrates the idea that the greatest gift is sincerity, not wealth. The drumbeat becomes a symbol of pure devotion, showing listeners that even the simplest act, when given with love, can resonate louder than royal riches. It is a warm reminder that what matters most is the spirit behind the offering, turning a child’s modest percussion into a song of hope for the entire world.