In exile

In the eternal deserts

of my exile,

leave a trail,

write me a name.


And send it in the wind

on the wings of albatrosses,

up to the church tower,

where our time flies,

though not quite.



Be with me friend,

in good times and even in bad times.

On the deathbed,

don't tell me angel,

that you are proud.

On the road, on the road,

not that I wouldn't help you.

I, a tramp on the stars,

lost, godless.


If you, eternity,

will be merciful to me forever

and my transformation

turns into a song ...


I would give you everything from my ship,

just not sail.

So welcome aboard

eternal tension.




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