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christian poem

voll von den Rissen
die Sonne ist oben
drehen Sie nicht Ihren Kopf
so gefallen
herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais
wie ich sollen Sie, helfen Sie rechts der Welt, die falsch geht
tat Sie hören überhaupt
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
machen Sie sich nicht um das unsichtbare Sorgen
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
dort durch das Fenster im alten Haus
rückwärts drehen Sie sich rückwärts
schwach-weak-winged Song

 



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