Poets life
Cry, poet, cry
Modern poet, cry
Cry, as if it’s always night
cause duty calls to write
feel your feelings deep
and when tragedy is over
fall back down black sleep
the oceans cannot weep
Lesson in Lyrical Warfare for Adepts
Used my intelligence for art
but it´s a fucking weapon too
did not want to play, but you start
it´s fiction, nothing here is true
read my lyrical reckoning
because it is not about you
let´s relax and the show begin
hope everything´s fine, you feel well
but now I got to spit my spell
read this letters written in hell
Before, I´ve got to introduce
say what I am, what I can
it is the warning, you will loose
I´m not the devil, he´s my fan
I control, you not even choose
Seems like legion, but just one man
I´m a god damned concrete tower
hope your dead happy head is tough
drop words, bomb carpet from above
remember, a joke, hope you laugh
The first step, I´m completely free
calculated insanity
I´m everything, everywhere, me
version evil house of mirrors
You just see the exteriors
I say it again, this is art
I´m not insane, fiction, a tale
but perhaps, really think, think hard
what if you find the holy grail
hero area, do not fail
Now I end little spectacle
I was kidding, professional
began enemy, ended as friend
this is beginning, not an end
Londons Lost
„London,
in rotem abendkaltem Sonnenschein
die Klarheit, schaut lebendige Monotonie
– Bewegungen in Metropolen
Und man sieht noch ein einzig Mal zurück
– und endgültig nach vorn
Ich muss erläutern, lieber Leser
Ich bin dort nur kurz zu Besuch,
eine der immer letzten Reisen
Und ich weiß, lieber Leser
hier und da, sind die Bekannten
die Künstlerseelen aller Jahrhunderte
Siehst Du denn nicht, diesen Mann in der U-Bahn
oder hier am Ufer diese Frau
Und in den Häusern
Musen, Maler, Musik und Text
Unsichtbar,
wie immer,
wie an allen Orten.“