Kategorie: the 70s

 The wind murmurs in the tree
 and it curls the sea
 the lights of the town so far away
 shine on and on from day to day.

 On a dark December morning
 long before the sun is dawning
 I try to get up high
 I try to reach the sky.

 Her laughter in the empty room
 introduces old men's doom
 when they try to walk on water
 they will meet there heaven's porter.

 The cry echoes through the street
 through the trampling feet
 the scene of horror fills up the air
 and there's her laughter from nowhere.

 On a sunny July morning
 the sun is up but I'm still yawning
 I try to get up high
 I try to reach the sky.

 With angels pure and bright with joy
 rules the sky a worshipped boy
 her we are almost forsaken
 with all our pride of steps we've taken. 

Here I go again
 And I leave behind a woman in a darkened room
 Too many oaths have been burdened on me
 The slavery of souls in a struggle flesh to flesh
 Has come to an end tonight
 The unison of our minds is disturbed
 The greedy vultures sitting on our roof
 Are urging us to feed them with broken vows
 The rays of beauty are diffused
 From the smoke we made
 Another illusion is buried in the back-yard.
 
 
 Here I go again
 The woods are burning on this sacred ground
 The company of heroes failed at last
 Che Guevara's spirit left us standing bare
 Our hands are counting now
 The metal that invaded our pure thoughts
 And our prison now has golden bars
 The ambush is purely intellectual
 And sophisticated phrases replaced our guns
 We are back in the arms of our fathers
 And another illusion is buried in the back-yard.
 
 
 Here I go again
 Picking flowers, singing songs and biding time
 I am back in the rain.