I was a child searching for a voice in an old radio.
Prisonner of a city walled in by freedom .
Believing that only cartoons held the truth.
Popeye the good sailor
vs / The big bad wolf ...
Sinners,dreamers and misfits
aboard an imaginary skiff ...
That\'s how we used to tell you
a story where the clouds
always came from the east .
I believe in the forecast .
The messiah will descend
from a cloned star !
For the first time I am in love
with a voice that don\'t spit
a war game ...
I drown in the blue of a bird\'s gaze
like an angel on the rooftops ...
Neither an eagle nor a dove .
Simply a woman made of soul and desire.
I was no longer a child but I would
never grow up ...
The sparrow built its nest a long time ago.
It rains on the recollection of an empty prison.
I loved that bar in Spandau where in the
beer and smoke I replayed that chess game
with stefan Brecht and Berthold Zweig ,
listening to a tube by the comedian harmonists
or Marlene broken tune ...
and the loser exclaiming :
\'\' Ich bin ein Berliner ! \'\'
It has been raining for so long here
that it became an habbit for lovers...
This damn old radio has gone silent.
I have no children asking
about yesterday ,
and the stones have rolled ,
revealing the secret of the crypt...
There\'s sunshine over Amsterdam
says the meteo !
I\'d like to be there .
Dream on a canal flowing towards the sea
and even further ...
Shipwrewrecked on an ocean
that calls me to this liberty
promised by an old radio...