There is a landscape in my head
I sometimes travel
But this is strictly after dark
Beyond the barricades and trenches
There stands the factory
Hand me the costum of the sad acrobat
And he says
Son, this is the bread I break for you
But do not touch it
And he says
Son, this is the wine I pour for you
But do not drink it
Dein aschenes haar, sulamith
And he says
Son, this is the bread I break for you
Son, this is the wine I pour for you
But do not drink it, don't drink at all
There is a stranger on the shore
I sometimes travel
But this is strictly in my dreams
He feeds the seagulls in the winds with ashes
And as he speaks he's got my father's voice
And he says
Son, here is some bread I broke for you
Son, here is some wine
Those were the days, my friend
Dein aschenes haar, sulamith
Der tod ist ein meister aus deutschland