Klaus Hoffmann - Berlin (1978) скачать в хорошем качестве

Klaus Hoffmann - Berlin (1978)

My conversation, my songs,  my hatred and my happiness,  my day, my night, my forward, my backward,  my sun and shadows, doubts that I have;  in you and in me until the last day.  Your streets where I flee, stumble and fall,  your warmth I need, hat I feel everywhere.  Don't sell yourself, Berlin,  young you are not,  you age so fast, carry too much, the suitor's money is tearing you down.  They will leave, watch you die,  Berlin, my love Berlin.  Your dark corners, you countless courtyards,  where the filth and poverty barks for change,  your highs in the morning  smell of hashish and beer,  and snot left falls careless onto your streets.  Your markets, the women, their calmness, their slyness  and sometimes a joke, which hits me in the stomach.  Don't sell yourself, Berlin,  young you are not,  you age so fast, carry too much, the suitor's money is tearing you down.  They will leave, watch you die,  Berlin, my love Berlin.  Your houses with corridors,  where one beats, where one laughs,  where when it's dark, new tenants are created.  Your rooms where sleep comes reluctantly,  because there is not enough air to breathe,  where the Grim Reaper lives.  But where you experience freedom in this great city,  although it restricts and squeezes and has many walls.  Don't sell yourself, Berlin,  young you are not,  you age so fast, carry too much, the suitor's money is tearing you down.  They will leave, watch you die,  Berlin, my love Berlin. My conversation, my songs,  my hatred and my happiness,  my day, my night, my forward, my backward,  Your half-dead train station where I stand among those  who tomorrow, tomorrow already, will go to better places.  Where I want to leave you,  again and again, and still,  I'll manage one day  one day I will go.   Don't sell yourself, Berlin,  young you are not,  you age so fast, carry too much, the suitor's money is tearing you down.  They will leave, watch you die,  Berlin, my love Berlin.