wir werden sterben
alle.
Hey, don’t you throw away all that fantastic trouble?
Don’t you! Tell me your trouble. Come on, tell me your trouble.
Makes me forget mine.
You should know, I’ll always listen to you
as I listen to all those troubled voices in the radio, the TV
covering my darkest thoughts so gently
as the fresh snow on a shining winter morning
and the deer is ghostly rushing around between the woods,
Hushhush..!
We won’t leave any traces
just keep waiting and listening
to your trouble
to your trouble
and then to your breathing between the words
You will stop talking
and there will be an ultimate pause. And I‘ll say:
Hey, I like your story. Why don’t we stay together?
Will you smile?
Will you smile or better run?
Damned, I’ve no advice for you.