well here it is:

as a good-hearted crazy boy as I am
I can be fixed only by a woman
on the last gear of speed
like a herd of mustangs in gallop
to the abyss or to eternity

a woman who dedicates me poems of hate
in which I'm the last provincial old man
the princess can fall in love with
but actually the joy is shaking whitin
any time she feels me arround

a woman dressed only in swords of Toledo
who can sing on a sword like Mariza
making me climb on the walls
like on the Chinese Wall on the moon

a woman that resists any melalcoholical drubbing
on rithmes of sirtaki with Zorba the Greek
with her heart blowned out of her mind
carelessly throwned like underwear through  the room

a long-time woman to lead my way
and night in sleep and life in death
and my god in all its demons of beauty
with the most innocent baby smile

a woman that on the last outpost of her ******
like a wild goddess will laugh and explode the night
as if as if ordering
the happiest end of the world

I figgured there is nothing
more uggly
then loosing you but
I'm talking nonsense

there is realy there is

there is that sort of madness
that you did'nt lift a finger
to keep me in your heart

really there is always
somethin' more uggly
we just have to feel
we are **** beautyfull

well everybody's world is another one so what to change?
you can not see things as they are just see them how you are
in fact you can not even see how they are
if any definition is just an approximation
or an alternation of the same thing

everything is a more or less a faithful translation
and the only performance in the field is love
yes love sees and feels "the same thing"
but it does not give you any explanation

it's a sublime free fall feels all like it's all
and not how it is

if you're realistic a moment you feel the way you are
without the impossible ambition to see the same thing
see love as a feast of unreality
which makes playing in another's skin a child's play
and a genius experience
to make it like the movies to be another being yourself

but to be realistic to the end is to give life the opportunity to be herself
to see for hereself to feel it all as it is
without interference in her internal affairs

the vanity of love is that it is a giveaway to likelyness
even beyond life but can not save the world
it can only make it better

let everybody's world be different
and that's the freedom
and that's all you can love

In Other Words we do not see things as they are
Because simple as that we only see things as we are
We see as they are the sick ambitions
To idolize and define about everything
With The Same **** Words

But only in Other Words we see as we really are
In Other Words everything is in the hands minds and our hearts
Everything is Here and Now
And There or Then Is really Nothing
There and Then everything Was or Will Be
There and Then Is Nowhere and Never

My heart is shamelessly steering at the world in Other Words
My heart is a ***** unveiling you’re intimal beautiful parts
And if she does not see them she fantasizes shameless in Other Words
But with The Same intimal beautiful Words
Is really nothing There and Then

Go figure that all that shameless beauty is only in my eyes
Go figure that all that shameless beauty is Here and Now

Yesterday is dead and tomorrow could be
In the labour of giving birth

Well me from Now on I will stay to suicide with a lively joy
Because as simply as that I Am Here and Now in Other Words
Because everything Is and goes to hell

With a wonder of sickening of shameless of beauty

“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” - Einstein

Everybody is born a genius and dies like a idiot
Some of them have nothing to do
And make exactly the opposite
Nothing like kamikaze fish climbing the trees

Because the crowd is to loud to hear his own stupidity
Even though history remembers his achievements
Jumping in the trees of power and greed

It is really all from a monkey swimming
In a ocean of rules of war in heaven
And leaving it with a big smile on his face

It's raining heavily in my laboreour's Germany
it is Sunday and foreigners are quietly resting
with some beer held in their large & full of scars hands

there in our improbable wonders
I come to talk to them
when a bumblebee lost and drenched
also comes on dry ground
marching through our feet

when one of us turns him on his back
he is buzzing he is drying his wings
and I say
"let him go man"

and afterall
"es ist nur ein Waser Probleme"

It’s all right your man comes tonight from the bar
Your woman from the hairdresser
But the best thing would be to move the hairdresser
In the bar
So you know something for certain

Rolled in a pile of desire and ambition
We jumped to scatter through the world
To buzz insanely all his wonders

We reported heaven as missing
So we flew through the ins and outs of the earth
We swam through the sand floating through the fog

Yes Sir
We walked on the water fainted like crazy
Until everything was made a road at our feet

Arriving close to World's End
Where is no trace of regret or sigh
Where we see only the Water and the Great Wall
We will find out of the blue
The Peace and Friendship of a madhouse

There thirst elevates us to catch our breath
With the blood stained by the sword in our hand

Lord great is Thy mercy:

The Reality is you wake up smiling
And you look like hell