**** the river, **** the river of oblivion
past lives are drifting beneath its surface
they are singing a hymn, in kids voices
this hymn was written by the thoughts of ancestors

a human being has more than 60.000 thoughts a day
the psychiatrist who told me that is chinese
i like her appearance, she's my type, sweetly dark
the memory of my poems is implanted into her brain

when the night becomes day, the sun swallows every word
its rays burn down all the letters of the past
and the past is nothing but the last word written
i want to take a bath in the ideal of love

this ideal is tattooed on a person special to me
i have to think of what alejandro said in sicario
a movie is never a movie but a collection of memories
no story will ever be written without experience

the observations of birds make up for a pool of poems
if these creatures could write, yet they sing their stories
every soul which existed on earth, comes back to it
sooner or later, gökhan, reyka, ama and alexander

i would have liked to meet my uncle but he died of an overdose
a man who hated him gave him poison and alex injected it
as a child, i would often look at his picture:
eyes wide open, wildly glowing, as if he was in a waking dream