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Baroque period
At the Michaeliskirche
On the clavichord
Christen ätzet diesen Tag
Two violas and a spinet

tanka by Nicolas Grenier
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Its Not About The Money

Seems like everybody's got a price
I wonder how they sleep at night
When the sale comes first and the truth
comes second
Just stop for a minute and smile
Why is everybody so serious?
Acting so damn mysterious
You got your shades on your eyes and your
heels so high
That you can't even have a good time
Everybody look to their left
Everybody look to their right
Can you feel that? Yeah
We'll pay them with love tonight
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
We need to take it back in time
When music made us all unite
And it wasn't low blows and video hoes
Am I the only one gettin' tired?
Why is everybody so obsessed?
Money can't buy us happiness
Can we all slow down and enjoy right now
Guarantee we'll be feelin' alright
Everybody look to their left
Everybody look to their right
Can you feel that? Yeah
We'll pay them with love tonight
It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag
Yeah, yeah, well, keep the price tag and
take the cash back
Just give me six strings and a half stack
And you can keep the cars, leave me the
garage
And all I, yes, all I need are keys and
guitars
And guess what, in 30 seconds I'm leaving

[...] Read more

poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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Price Tag (Jessie J)

Seems like everybody's got a price
I wonder how they sleep at night
When the sale comes first and the truth comes second
Just stop for a minute and smile

Why is everybody so serious?
Acting so damn mysterious
You got your shades on your eyes and your heels so high
That you can't even have a good time

Everybody look to their left
Everybody look to their right
Can you feel that? Yeah
We'll pay them with love tonight

It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag

Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag

We need to take it back in time
When music made us all unite
And it wasn't low blows and video hoes
Am I the only one gettin' tired?

Why is everybody so obsessed?
Money can't buy us happiness
Can we all slow down and enjoy right now
Guarantee we'll be feelin' alright

Everybody look to their left
Everybody look to their right
Can you feel that? Yeah
We'll pay them with love tonight

It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag

Ain't about the cha-ching, cha-ching
Ain't about the ba-bling, ba-bling
Wanna make the world dance
Forget about the price tag

[...] Read more

poem by Alex Reyes
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Helden

Du
Koenntest du schwimmen
Wie delphine
Delphine es tun
Niemand gibt uns eine chance
Doch koennen wir siegen
Fuer immer und immer
Und wir sind dann helden
Fuer einen tag
Ich
Ich bin dann koenig
Und du
Du koenigin
Obwohl sie
Unschlagbar scheinen
Werden wir helden
Fuer einen tag
Wir sind dann wir
An diesem tag
Ich
Ich glaub das zu traeumen
Die mauer
Im ruecken war kalt
Schusse reissen die luft
Doch wir kuessen
Als ob nichts geschieht
Und die scham fiel auf ihre seite
Oh, wir koennen sie schlagen
Fyr alle zeiten
Dann sind wir helden
Nur diesen tag
Dann sind wir helden
Dann sind wir helden
Dann sind wir helden
Nur diesen tag
Dann sind wir helden

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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(3:39)

Du
Koenntest Du schwimmen
Wie Delphine
Delphine es tun
Niemand gibt uns eine Chance
Doch koennen wir siegen
Fuer immer und immer
Und wir sind dann Helden
Fuer einen tag
Ich
Ich bin dann Koenig
Und Du
Du Koenigin
Obwohl sie
Unschlagbar scheinen
Werden wir Helden
Fuer einen Tag
Wir sind dann wir
An diesem Tag
Ich
Ich glaub' das zu traeumen
die Mauer
Im Ruecken war kalt
Schusse reissen die Luft
Doch wir kuessen
Als ob nichts geschieht
Und die Scham fiel auf ihre Seite
Oh, wir koennen sie schlagen
Fyr alle Zeiten
Dann sind wir Helden
Nur diesen Tag
Dann sind wir Helden
Dann sind wir Helden
Dann sind wir Helden
Nur diesen Tag
Dann sind wir Helden

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Heroes - Helden

I, I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can beat them, just for one day
We can be heroes, just for one day
And you, you can be mean
And i, Ill drink all the time
cause were lovers, and that is a fact
Yes were lovers, and that is that
Though nothing, will keep us together
We could steal time, just for one day
We can be heroes, for ever and ever
What dyou say?
Du
Koenntest du schwimmen
Wie delphine
Delphine es tun
Niemand gibt uns eine chance
Doch wir koennen siegen
Fuer immer und immer
Und wir sind dann helden
Fuer einen tag
Ich
Ich bin dann koenig
Und du
Du koenigin
Obwohl sie
Unschlagbar scheinen
Werden wir helden
Fur einen tag
Wir sind dann wir
An diesem tag
Ich
Ich glaubbte zu traeumen (zu traeumen)
Die mauer
Im ruecken war kalt (so kalt)
Schuesse reissen die luft (reissen die luft)
Doch wir kuessen
Als ob nichts geschieht (nichts geschieht)
Und die scham fiel auf ihre seite
O, wir koennen sie schlagen
Fuer alle zeiten
Dann sind wir helden
Nur diesen tag
Dann sind wir helden
Dann sind wir helden
Dann sind wir helden
Nur diesen tag
Dann sind wir helden
Were nothing

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
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Price Tag by Jessie J

Verse 1

Seems like everybodys got a price,
I wonder how they sleep at night.
When the sale comes first,
And the truth comes second,
Just stop, for a minute and
Smile

Why is everybody so serious!
Acting so damn mysterious
You got your shades on your eyes
And your heels so high
That you can't even have a good
Time.

Pre-chorus.

Everybody look to their left (yeah)
Everybody look to their right (ha)
Can you feel that (yeah)
We're paying with love tonight...

Chorus:

It's not about the money, money, money
We don't need your money, money, money
We just wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.

Ain't about the (ha) Cha-Ching Cha-Ching.
Aint about the (yeah) Ba-Bling Ba-Bling
Wanna make the world dance,
Forget about the Price Tag.

Verse 2.

(Listen, Okay.)
We need to take it back in time,
When music made us all UNITE!
And it wasn't low blows and video Hoes,
Am I the only one gettin... tired?

Why is everybody so obsessed?
Money can't buy us happiness.
If we all slow down and enjoy right now
Gurantee we'll be feelin
All right.

Pre-chorus.

[...] Read more

poem by Shi Yelami
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Guten Tag Herr

Guten Tag Herr,
Ist das, was ich sage.
Guten Tag gnädige Frau,
Er sagt, zurück.
Wir halten an,
Zu sprechen.
Wie bist du,
Ich sage.
Gut,
You,
, Fragte er.
Ich bin sehr gut,
Danke,
Ich sage.
Wir entschuldigen uns für ein paar Minuten unterhalten,
Bevor ich sagen,
Haben Sie einen guten Tag, Sir.
Er sagt, Rücken,
Du auch.
Wir gehen unseren eigenen Wege,
Und haben gute Tage.
Wir sterben noch am selben Tag,
Und sind nebeneinander begraben.
Guten Tag Herr,
Ich sage, wenn wir uns treffen.
Guten Tag gnädige Frau,
Er sagt, zurück.

poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Warten Und Hoffen

(bacharach / david / german lyrics : unknown)
Warten und hoffen
Und hoffen und warten
Sehnen und trumen
Tag aus und tag ein
Denn einmal ist jeder allein
Waiting and hoping
And hoping and waiting.
Longing and dreaming
Day in and day out.
Then once everybody will be alone
Das glck ist berall
Weit und nah
Darum muss du immer
Warten und hoffen und trumen
Auf einmal ist es da
Luck is everywhere
Far away and near
Thats why you always have to
Wait and hope and dream
And once it will be there
Und fragst du den wind und das meer
Sag mir wann, wann kommt er
Dan sagt die wind und das meer, oooohhh
And if you ask the wind and the sea
Tell me when, when does it comes
Then the wind and the sea will say, oohhh
Du muss warten, warten und auch hoffen
Hoffen und auch trumen
You have to wait, wait and also hope
Hope and also dream
Nur warten und hoffen
Und hoffen und warten
Sehnen und trumen
Tag aus und tag ein
Dann bist du bald nicht mehr allein
Just waiting and hoping
And hoping and waiting
Longing and dreaming
Day out and day in
Then soon you wont be alone anymore
Dann wird die zukunft schn
Jahr aus, jahr ein
Then the future will be beautiful
Year out, year in.
Und dann musst du nicht mehr warten
Und hoffen und hoffen und warten
Und auch nicht mehr trumen
Ohh nein, das glck ist dein
And then you musnt wait anymore

[...] Read more

song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Am Writing A Poem That You Can Understand So Easily

this is not to insult your intelligence
or your sensibility
your capacity for managing angst,
to see the wholeness
of the matter
in the eye of the needle
where the camel enters where you claim you have seen it,

this, this is it, the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the river the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the river

do you not find wisdom in it, it is filled with questions to be answered:

why is the fox quick
why is it brown? why does it jump on a lazy dog? and is the dog really lazy? is this not offensive to the dogs in the royalty? and why should the river be near? and this bank of the river? is this where the dog lives? or the fox or the dog, do they relate to the word quick and lazy?

i tell you, there is wisdom in every word, no matter where you place it.
every verb serves its purpose in giving us action,
every question calls for an answer
and every period serves the purpose it is intended to be.

rest.

the purpose of an easy poem is to understand it, and so the poem is written in the most familiar language that you know and speak,

period.

i don't want to understand things really, there is no point there.

period.

some poems are not meant to be understood, they are only meant to be read.

period.

some poems are not meant to be digested, they are meant to make
us full, even only for a while.

period.

some poems are written by Someone Else, and this writer does not
even understand it.

period.
rest.......

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Priests and doctors are privileged.

There is a tag to wipe your sin.
There is a tag to earn you bliss.
There is a tag to cure your ills.
There is a tag to keep off ills.
Priests and doctors get their fees.
You pay them without guarantees.

12.10.2012

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ill Tag Along

Youve got time enough for two of us
What is mine I will share
Weve got things that we can do without
Most anytime anywhere
Every little daydream that appears in all we do
Gives us some problems of our own
If you turn back to that page again
And you cant win
If you ask me Ill tag along
Paper matches in the afternoon
Cups of tea and all of that zen
I think its time we took a walk outside
It seems there is no oxygen
This time tomorrow we might all be packed and gone
I believe its best we carry on
Smoke rings rising til they disappear
In the sky above
If you ask me Ill tag along
Each and every bad dream will be hammered into dust
When we get back where we belong
If you ever turn that page again
And you need a friend
If you ask me Ill tag along
This time tomorrow we might all be packed and gone
I believe its best we carry on
Smoke rings rising til they disappear
In the sky above
If you ask me Ill tag along

song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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1 X 2 X 3 X 4

One time two times three times four
Hey hey hey hey
Twelve angry husbands knocking on my door
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Accusing me of having done
Something that would make me run run run run
Why dont they sit and listen
All that they want to do is christen me
One time two times three times four
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Gotta go gotta play around no more
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Cant you see Ive had a gun
Now their gonna make me run run run
Why dont they sit and listen
All they want to do is christen me
I didnt mean to play around with fire
But I never got burned
I wont do it again
One time two times three times four
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Gotta go gotta play around no more
Hey, hey, hey, hey
One time two times three times four

song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yield

i was downstairs
in the greenroom
waiting for you
to appear
i said hello
to your family
i said hello
to your friends
i said hello
to this situation
that never yields
now it's easy
for me to tell you
that my love for you
is sincere
but i once stumbled
on these feelings
(on these feelings)
and i once stumbled
on these words
(on these words)
something you
don't ever stumble on
dear
yeah you were so
baroque
all those words
just to tell me no
and you were so
soft spoken
with all of the others
who said you weren't broken
oh they just let you go
yeah you were so
baroque
all of those words
just to tell me no
and you were so
soft spoken
with all of the others
who said you weren't broken
oh they just let you go
when you're three days
down the highway
and you're looking
like i feel
and it takes a lot
(takes a lot)
to keep it going
it takes a lot

[...] Read more

song performed by Indigo Girls
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Framing a spurt of Spring

the day is baroque
with daisies' faces
lifted to the sun
my feet lift and knock
on spring's lenient ground
where tortoises' dance
lead them to drink from proud
prickly pear's leaf
and rocks are small
under the yellow rays
of the round clock
the slow spring day
is ticking and saying

the day is baroque
and colour licks
an orange shock
for autumn's mind
left summer behind
in green thorny itch
and I am treading
an interesting quest
for prickly pear's nest
in a field of daisies
and winter's leaking ills
in the splendor of spring

poem by Elna Nel
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I look at Rome; She has nearly three thousand years of civilization, but she flows as if she were new, looking as young and carefree as water when she makes water. A city where art and culture predominate more than anything else.
Overall, Rome is a mysterious city. The ancient ruins on the one hand suggest the glory of the Roman Empire, on the other they strike the opulence and grandeur of the Baroque buildings. And last but not least, be captivated by the speed and crazy rhythms of today's civilization translated into the huge number of tourists in the city, flooded with people, cameras and souvenirs. Everyone chooses his Rome, be it imperial, baroque or modern. But for everyone the city, once the center of the world, is a real historical symbol.

Camelia Oprița in book Wall of thoughts (We look for the past to invent the future) (2000)
Added by Livius Ciocarlie
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Torquing Torus

It very rare for Richard Serra
man of steel, to sculpt in error.
The shapes that he creates evoke
dunes, canyons and ravines. Baroque
the influence of all these curves.
Perhaps Borromini deserves
some credit for the inspiration
for their expressive undulation,
although, ingratiating, lavish,
his expertise inclines to ravish
as, torquing torus with inversion,
with parasexual perversion
it transforms alchemistically steel
into raw spaces where you feel
the presence of a dying numen
within the crevasse of the lumen
where people walk and need not climb
to sense a terror that’s sublime.

Michael Kimmelman reviews a retrospective exhibition of Richard Serra of sculptures at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, “Man of Steel, ” NYT, June 1,2007) :
That second floor at the Modern, by the way, is the show’s tour de force. A high, huge and like so much of this museum, totally unlovable space, it was conceived for housing Mr. Serra’s sculptures. Kirk Varnedoe, the Modern curator, came up with this idea, and the museum saw his plan through after his death. The resulting space is antiseptic, unfortunately, and too much of a barn for showing anything else, but it looks fantastic now. At one end is “Band, ” a 70-foot-long steel undulation, absent an inside or outside, forming four cavities. On the other end is “Sequence, ” which links two immense spirals. In between is “Torqued Torus Inversion, ” a pair of mirrored enclosures whose forms Mr. Serra has said may partly relate to his fondness for curvy Chinese bronzes…
These shapes and experiences are new. That’s about the best, and the rarest, compliment you can give to any artist. Mr. Serra’s “Torqued Ellipses” and “Torqued Toruses” and other recent works like “Band” and “Sequence” have their origins in work he did 40 years ago in rubber and lead, as this retrospective handsomely affirms, but these are nonetheless unprecedented variations on the theme of dumbfounding spirals and loops. The public’s perception of Mr. Serra’s work has also obviously changed from the bad days of “Tilted Arc, ” a quarter-century or so ago. That same vocabulary of curved, giant metal walls, once vilified as art-world arrogance, is now better understood and broadly admired. This is how radical art operates. In Mr. Serra’s case you can also call it democratic art because it sticks to pure form that requires no previous expertise to grasp. There’s no coy narrative, no insider joke or historical allusion or meta-art theme. There’s none of what Mr. Serra disdainfully calls, in the show’s catalog, “post-Pop Surrealism, ” by which he lumps together all contemporary art that leans for a crutch on language and Duchamp. In that catalog interview he was talking with Kynaston McShine, one of the show’s two curators. (The other is Lynne Cooke.) Mr. Serra famously looked at Borromini churches in Rome before he started torquing steel, but his work is not “about” Baroque architecture any more than it’s about Jackson Pollock or Barnett Newman or Donald Judd, whom he also looked at and learned from early on. The art is about the basic stuff of sculpture, isolated and recast: mass, weight, volume, material. What matters in the end are your own reactions while moving through the sculptures, at a given moment, the works being Rorschachs of indeterminate meaning….
A filmmaker I met in Bilbao, Spain, wandering through Mr. Serra’s sculptures there, likened the experience to movies. He thought the paths Mr. Serra devised within the works, between curving walls of steel, which suddenly jog, then arrive, unexpectedly, at cavities or enclosures, were like plot twists with surprise endings. Except there are no beginnings or endings in the sculptures. A novelist who has written about the Holocaust said the high, curving steel walls leaned over him threateningly, leading him until he became disoriented and lost, into what he felt were penned-in spaces, bringing to mind a concentration camp. The art scared him, he said, but he also loved it. Kant called this feeling “the terrifying sublime, ” which is “accompanied by a certain dread or melancholy.” Awe and fear mingle with pleasure. The concept was applied to mountain climbing, and Mr. Serra’s new works on the museum’s second floor, perhaps not coincidentally, evoke canyons, dunes, crevasses and ravines. The industrial steel walls, in uncalculated rusty orange and velvety brown, evoke natural terrains; the spaces through which the sculptures move people are akin to spaces in nature.

6/1/07

poem by Gershon Hepner
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I still the love classic period, but also the baroque period, and even 17th-Century music such as the music of Monteverdi. He's one of the greatest opera composers. He was the one who really started the opera.

quote by Cecilia Bartoli
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How to interpret games/Kako protumaciti igre

For the beginning it would be helpful to remember your childhood. The game is one of the hardest concepts and it requires the classification through the use of a chronological criterion. The games of childhood are a path towards theorizing the world. They sometimes imitate life without an authentic understanding of it, even without the need or wish to understand.
Playing tag for instance is a way to reach the other person using the advantages of the touch therapy.
Ring a ring a roses belongs to the same category except for the fact that this is the game in which you need to turn around a lot. Some people turn so a lot that they get into a trance which only the hide and seek can wafe them from. Speaking of hide and seek you can play it only if you have no problem with your eyesight and if you know how to count at least to…ten. You also need an elementary knowledge of your environment so that the others don't have to look for you in various corners where you can be detained with or without kneeling on corn. (Kneeling on corn is the game of the transition period)
The game of growing up is red gloves. Sometimes the gloves are so red that you may end up being blood transfused. The most interesting thing is that even if you know who hit you the pain does not decrease. Time, the most important factor in the development of games, can be helpful in increasing the pain tolerance degree. A comforting fact is that the only constant thing in the whole game is the colour of the gloves.
The game of the mature period is mother and father. Genetics plays the crucial role here. A continual jigsaw between dna and rna counting of chromosomes like marbles will distract your attention from the essence of this game.
The game of getting old is silent swinging alongside brain cells dying out. In this period you have already managed to cope with all the aforementioned games and now you can finally take your time.
The game of dying is a fairy tale being red before a good night's sleep and a dream in which you're swayed by someone's warm and calm voice. For in the end all you are craving is silence.

Za pocetak bi bilo dobro da se sjetite djetinjstva. To uvijek pomaze. Ovo je inace jedan od najtezih pojmova i zahtjeva klasifikovanje istog koristeci hronoloski kriterijum. Igre djetinjstva put su ka sagledavanju svijeta. One imitiraju zivot bez istinskog razumijevanja istog, a i bez potrebe i zelje za razumijevanjem. Suga je nacin da stignete do drugog koristeci prednosti touch terapije.

U istu kategoriju spada i ringe ringe raja s tim sto vam odzvoni jos prije nego sto ostarite jer je to igra u kojoj puno morate da se vrtite. Neki od nje prosto padaju u trans iz koga ih moze probuditi samo igra zmurke. Zmurke mozete da se igrate samo ukoliko nemate poteskoca sa vidom i ukoliko znate da brojite... makar do deset. Potrebno je i elementarno poznavanje okoline da ne bi na kraju morali i vas da traze po raznim coskovima u koje vas za kaznu stavljaju sa ili bez klecanja na kukuruzu.
(Klecanje na kukuruzu je igra prelaznog perioda) Potrebno je takodje da se unaprijed pomirite sa cinjenicom da nemate pojma koga u stvari trazite. Nije vazno. Cilj uvijek mozete da izmislite. Jer uvijek ce do kraja ostati nerazjasnjeno da li je krajnja svrha igranja postizanje uspjeha ili je igra samoj sebi cilj.
Igra odrastanja je igra crvenih rukavica. Nekad toliko crvenih da zavrsite na transfuziji krvi. Najzanimljivije je to sto i ako pogodite ko vas je zviznuo to ne umanjuje bol. Vrijeme koje je najvazniji faktor u razvoju igara moze vam biti od pomoci da povisite stepen tolerancije na bol. Utjesno je sto u svakom trenutku znate kada i gdje su vas udarili kao i to da je jedina postojana stvar u cijeloj igri boja rukavica.
Igra zrelog doba je igra mame i tate. Genetika je ovdje od presudnog znacaja. Kontinuirano klackanje izmedju RNK i DNK, prebrojavanje hromozoma kao klikera odvratice vam paznju sa sustine igre.
Igra starenja je tiho ljuljanje od kojeg odumiru mozdane vijuge. U ovom periodu vec ste savladili sve prethodno navedene igre i sada mozete da se mirno prepustite uzivanju.
Igra umiranja je citanje bajke pred spavanje i san u koji vas uljuljkuje neciji topao i smiren glas. Jer na kraju svega vapite samo za tisinom.

A Little School of Interpretation, …in x lessons,2007.
©Miroslava Odalovic

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Alter Mann

Er wartet auf den Mittagswind
Die Welle kommt und legt sich matt
Mit einem Faecher jeden Tag
Der Alte macht das Wasser glatt

Ich werf den Stein zu meinem Spass
Das Wasser sich im Kreis bewegt
Der Alte sieht mich traurig an
Und hat es wieder glatt gefegt

I'm weissen Sand der alte Mann
Zitternd sein Pfeife raucht
Nur das Wasser und ich wissen
Wozu er diesen Faecher braucht

Die Ahnung schlaeft wie ein Vulkan
Zoegernd hab ich dann gefragt
Den Kopf geneigt es schien er schlaeft
Hat er bevor er starb gesgt

Das Wasser soll dein Spiegel sein
Erst wenn es glatt ist

song performed by Rammstein
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nicht Die Erde Hat Dich Verschluckt

Zweimal zwei - von wand zu wand
Klappen vor dem fentsern, du tastest mit der hand
Feucht der boden, klamm das lager
Sie treiben dich zum wahnsinn - ohne naechte und tage
Sie fuettern dich mit dreck; sie fuettern dich mit luegen
Wollen dich brechen - den mut besiegen
Nichts kannst du tun, endlos jeder tag
Dein kopf fiebert staendig - dein koerper wird schwach
Bleib stark, bleib stark
Sie sperren dich in kaesten - in schwarzer stille
Lass dich nicht zerstoeren - bewahr deinen willen
Bleib stark
Du hast dein leben eingesetzt
Bist allein in dieser nacht
Draussen sind deine waerter
Einer schlaeft, einer lacht
Was wissen sie von deiner freiheit
Und der spur, die dein koerper macht
Sie holen dich raus - licht schmerzt in den augen
Zum raum fuers verhoer - ... eine zigarette erlauben?
Scharfte fragen - weisse kittel sind bereit
Ihre augen Im schatten - vergiss hippokrates eid
Man sagt dir: benehmen sie sich! - benimm als ihr gast
Du schirmst dich ab, du zeigst deinen hass
Du erlebst deine grenzen, du sprengst diesen ort
Sie werden alles versuchen - du sagst kein wort
Bleib stark, bleib stark
Sie sperren dich in kaesten - in schwarzer stille
Lass dich nicht zerstoeren - bewahr deinen willen
Bleib stark
Du hast dein leben eingesetzt
Bist allein in dieser nacht
Draussen sind deine waerter
Einer schlaeft, einer lacht
Was wissen sie von deiner freiheit
Und der spur, die dein koerper macht
Wir haben dich verlorn
Ohnmacht, trauer, zorn
Ich verspech dir jetzt
Ich tu, was ich kann
Wir haben dich verlorn
Ohnmacht, trauer, zorn
Ich verspech dir jetzt
Ich tu, was ich kann

song performed by Peter Gabriel
Added by Lucian Velea
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