| The city’s spread beneath my feet
|
| But not the one that I was after
|
| While I’ve been pounding out this beat
|
| The length of the Kudamm
|
| Street legends on the tourist map
|
| A fading script in Gothic
|
| Out in the studio they’re
|
| Rehearsing in drag for a lark
|
| Come on, let’s get lost in the dark
|
| Tale another step, another move, another pace
|
| What isn’t written in the manuscript is a note to play with grace
|
| And if I exit from this story in a way I might retrace
|
| It will have fallen through the cracks when I come back
|
| In any case
|
| Another time’s another place
|
| The city’s spread beneath my feet
|
| From the top of the Mercedes tower
|
| And I can see the darkness closing in
|
| Hour by hour
|
| But I can’t take another step, no filling in, no cut and paste
|
| A bankrupt process for the memory, this terrain is laid to waste
|
| No, nothing’s written in the history books
|
| That doesn’t leave a nasty taste;
|
| So should I start to tell the story
|
| Will you put me in my place?
|
| 'Cause it’ll all be crash and burn
|
| When I return… in any case
|
| Another time’s another place
|
| Just when did this get broken?
|
| I don’t know where to begin —
|
| I got a Ubahn ticket and a Flohmarkt token…
|
| I’m in trouble in the rubble of Berlin
|
| The light is getting dimmer
|
| The walls of history close in
|
| In Babelsberg they’re hunting
|
| For a different Stimmung
|
| That predates the war
|
| That was before
|
| That was before
|
| That was a different Berlin
|
| That was another Berlin
|
| That was before in Berlin |