Palimpsest (Songtext)

There was a little garden behind my childhood home,
an enchanted place, a little world of it's own,
it was a sacred site, I buried a treasure there,
but I can't remember what and where.

The first time I heard that song I was all alone,
a stranger spoke to me I'd always known,
this music is a true companion for many years,
but I can't remember what once made me blink back tears.

Wish I could remember the first time I saw your face,
but that memory is just the center of a tangling maze,
I remember it's alleys, I walk them every now and then,
I circle it's center again and again.


Memories are like a canvas, over-painted many times,
like a line of poetry, twisted and bended until it rhymes,
they feel real, but they're just a state of mind,
the past hides a truth you'll never find.


Songtext - Lies

I'm an honorable merchant, and all I tell is true,
the best friend I ever found is you,
give me some money for my fairy tale,
'cause I'm poor and have nothing but my lies on sale.


Everybody lies
just as well as everybody dies.
But it's not a lie if truth would kill,
but even so remains an empty space a liar cannot fill.


I'll tell you stories of a better future for us all,
I'll lead you there if you make the call,
voice your wishes and I tell you every lie,
'cause I want that power, your applause as alibi.

I love you is what I want you to believe,
I make a vow I'll never leave,
I know it better since you're not my first,
but you'd lie the same if the roles would be reversed.

[Written tonight in my Riad in Marrakech. The first verse has a subtitle: "The Merchant In The Souks"]


Songtext - Echoes

Back those days I used to knock at your door,
never worried you won't open up anymore.
I used to wave my goodbyes every now and then,
wish I could do that again.

I always had my own ways and means,
we didn't shared the same kind of dreams,
our lives were linked in some twisted ways,
but that was then, back in the days.

If we'd run into each other now,
we'd be just strangers somehow,
we wouldn't know how to look at each other at all,
never figure why we fall.


There is a shadow all around,
echoes of a love I haven't found.
There is a face in the dark,
a faded image I can barely mark.


Songtext - Child Of My Time

My hometown is surrounded by a city wall,
bound to a sphere dim-witted and small.
It's a place called modern times,
which was a good place betimes.


I'm a child of my time,
bound by rules that aren't mine,
mother history teaches me what's true,
father zeitgeist commands me what to do.


The world is on a mad doctor's spin,
the black hats are about to win.
I'm not wearing white either, though,
I play my role in that all-embracing show.

My hat is well-fitting and gray,
I want a living, so I have to stay
mingling with the bad guys,
becoming part of their lies.

The world is covered by a translucent sheet,
which carries more weight than you'll ever concede,
people fight it, but no one ever wins,
it's a sheet made of our fathers' sins.


Songtext - Becoming

Things are good when they come,
they're different when they're done.

Things may look like children's play,
they become hard work when they stay.

Things wide open in space,
a scenery you cannot trace.


Living in the now and here,
past and future, the mind swept clear.
It's a one way road, no U-turn anywhere,
no matter what, you're gonna go from here to there.

Trying to find a home, another Itaca,
traveling thousands miles thru Africa.


People looking scared and unsure,
there might be more beauty than you can endure.

People on the brink of death,
standing up and keep on going nevertheless

People's life in poverty,
The few they have, they share it equally.


Living in the now and here,
Let things and people stay the way they are,
traveling thousands miles thru Africa.

[Written 11.9. - 4.10. on a trip thru South Africa]

Songtext - When You Fall Asleep

Goin' around and around,
driven by that harsh sound,
babys cry and mothers swear,
people shout and do not care.

All that noise from overcrowded streets,
distorted sounds reflected by a plastered place,
those lumpy grooves made out of traffic beats,
blowing downright in your face.


When you fall asleep,
when there is no need,
when your mind reaches far,
I can see you as you are.

Songtext - Beyond The Border

Under the cloak,
behind the curtain,
people are slipping,
nothing is certain.

Under the cloak, under the table,
live is drifting, nothing is stable.

Beyond the border, on the other side,
hands and legs left here, the head astride.

Behind the firewall, utter confusion,
drop the candle, no further delusion.

Behind the wall,
beyond the firestorm,
we saw it all,
the ashes thrown.

Beneath the border
you'll find a guard,
he won't look at you,
just cut you apart.



Auf meinem Spaziergang heute kam mir ein Mann entgegen – etwa mein Alter, äußerlich unauffällig –, und irgend etwas bewegte ihn, mich anzusprechen: „Ich würde ihnen ja gerne fröhliche Weihnacht wünschen; bei drei Millionen Hungertoten fällt mir das aber etwas schwer“.

Nun reden einen in Hamburg auf offener Straße öfters Leute an, in allen Graden von Verwirrtheit. Ich bin kommentarlos weitergegangen – wobei ich die Zahl (drei Millionen) nicht aus dem Kopf bekam.

Bei 805 Millionen chronisch Hungernden weltweit wäre es eher verwunderlich, wenn die Zahl der auf Hunger zurückzuführenden Todesfälle so gering wäre. Das wären, bezogen auf die Gesamtzahl, gerade mal knapp 4‰ Todesfälle pro Jahr.

Die Zahl von drei Millionen ist insofern richtig, als sie sich auf die Zahl der getöteten Kinder bezieht. Man kann sie in einen Bezug setzten: im 1.Weltkrieg starben, konservativ geschätzt, 10 Mio. Menschen kriegsbedingt (Soldaten wie Zivilbevölkerung zusammengezählt), also – pro Jahr – etwa so viele Menschen, wie Kinder pro Jahr weltweit heute.

Es ist schwierig, die Zahlen zu belegen, ohne sich durch hunderte Seiten Dokumentation zu wühlen (wie zB. dem Report der Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations; dort auf S. 15 findet sich die Zahl von 805 Mio. „chronically undernourished“). Beim World Food Programme finden sich zusammengefaßt einige Zahlen.

Wirklich unfaßbar ist, was mich momentan dazu bringt, zumindest grundlegende Informationen zu dem Thema zu sammeln: es braucht eines Einzelgängers im Hamburger Stadtpark – beredet aus welchen Gründen auch immer – , dessen Rede ich selbst nach einigem Nachforschen nicht als verwirrt abstempeln kann.

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