Quinta 7

 

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Die 2. Generation
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        Oh, tell me, where they all have gone,

        the wide, wide suburbs of eternity?

        Even the mad, old symbol of the con

        above the marble arch, it asks for company

        for it can't bear the knowledge of

        destruction.

         

        Oh, crazy Daddy, hoar as stone,

        don't touch the record

        turning all alone!

         

        A cool wind was tenderly blowing

        away all the ashes of past,

        and poisonous bride gloves are growing

        under the civilized Dust

        killing your lo-o-o-ve!

         

        Oh, crazy Daddy, hoar as stone,

        dont't touch the record

        turning all alone!

         

        But the marvellous rivers keep flowing

        where misty sailors depart

        through the fear and the darkness. A glowing

        unriddles the shore of your heart

        for de-bar-kation.

         

        Oh, crazy Daddy - - - - -

        superious monster - - - don't touch me

        - - - I beg you - - - don't touch me

        - - - - - and don't stop my record

        turning all alone!

         

         

         

        Er wendet sich um,

        Müde lächelnd und blickt mich an.

        Langsam setzt er die Trompete ab,

        Wischt fast zärtlich über das Mundstück.

        Dann läßt er das Instrument sinken.

 

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