Three songs from the „Zehlendorf Notebook”

Under the Foam

I’ll let you go
Sitting holding tight
Sitting with the top line
I’ll let you leave
Unexposed to killer light
Tell your favorite vaudeville lies
When you like

Glory of your wake
In magnetic rings
We all know that nymphs of death
Play the lazy win
Rotten, stale within

Under the foam your true one sits
Clawing at your orbit
Things too heavy to explain
Resting in his armpit
Trajectory inner city blues kit

Broken waters rising soon
Look out for the sharks
Costumed spirits make their way
Look their tongues are in the snake pits
Continental storm decay
Prehistoric scenes arrive
Finish off your day

Old City Dog

Candles splatter
The kettle whips
Orient orange-groves explode
April wind
Reserves the scheme
Tables laughing at my feet

I’m just an old city dog
Hiding in the day
Crawling in the fog of night

Rustling leaves
Creep inside
Enumerating river tribes
Mass lamps burn
Moon’s so rude
Time for drinking high tonight

I’m just an old city dog
Hiding in the day
Crawling in the fog of night

Horizons lift
Their liquid heads
Watch the old man write of love
Crowds on crowds
Murky clouds
Thunder waiting high above

I’m just an old city dog
Hiding in the day
Crawling in the fog of night

Prenzlauer Berg

I could be the night sky
Moon hanging above you
Your poetic walls
Anything that loves you
Anyone
We hate the sun

I could be a lady
I could be a man
Everything that falls from you
Everything that falls for you
I’m your guiding hand
Lovers young
And lovers old
Stories you could tell
Stories never told

I could be the night cloud
Carrying your name
To another district
Let it breathe your fame
Fall like midnight rain
Forever