Alemanic melancholy

I close the fairy tales 

sticky jelly in my diary.

A lie serving as a Deutschmark

fled away in the wound...

Little red riding hood 

is no longer in the mood

for human kind ...

She begs for a dose of nightmare

in front of the empty barricade...

The Rhine's eyes roll tears of lead

and a mix of mawkish lieders ...

Amadeus is going to have tea at the Hitler's

and Ludwig is so deaf that he thinks 

h'es playing the drum ...

 My dear Richard ,the twilight of the gods

turns into a tetralogic farce ! 

 The factory has closed and Mercedes 

no longer knows what to do 

with her sub-saharian  sons .

So she has untrusted them to the caliphate...

 '' It was better before ! ''

said the ancient ,cultivating bitter regrets 

about Boris Becker or Gerd Müller ...

And then grandpa will take a nap

among the living with dead souls...

That what nostalgia is ...

I meet the veiled gaze of a somali princess

who doesn't know the lyrics to '' Sag warum ? ''

I myself only know the foggy life schedule

in horror picture show ...

 To err is human to consider oneself American...

I had a dream that a guy blew up a bridge 

connecting France ! 

 Alchemy transmuting blues into Gross Paris ...

But this scoundrel became a poet 

great friend of children ,

and snorring  in parliament ...

 No ! Really the matter of the Rhine

have become too filthy to hope 

the mercy of eternity ! 

 Will you still love me,charming Lorelei

clad in my shameful garment of walls ?

  I could have been an angel

hovering over the rooftops of Berlin ...

   why these reefs of a schizoid melancholy 

which makes me search for my lost wings ?