18 06 2014

Now it’s silent and I am alone
The kitchen of the caritas is closed
and I am 1000 km away from home
I miss my girlfriend & my little daughter the most
A car is passing by in front of my bare feet
I will ask somewhere to get some water & bread to eat
So the day is past & I love to sleep long
Let’s get up on me feet and carry on.

In the land of the pope
I can hear the sound of plates behind the big wall
There is a voice of little child our futures hope
but mine is far away where is now hope

Now I rang the 4th time a man looks out of the window
He says the kitchen is closed in this starving night
After a while the door opens up, I feel so low
He gives me 2 apples, water & bread & says it’s alright
Then tomorrow I could come for shower and breakfast
I go, eat, drink, tears are running, was that a test?

The bird says good night to a bright and sunny world,
The butterflies singing above the concret jungle
The cars are loud and my sleep got disturbed
my legs are cold & my hands trumble
two swallows sitting on the roof praying for tonight
An indian man sits on the street with his laptop ready to fight
The sun is now on the other side of the globe
and the last thing what’s left is eternal hope.


The rest of my blood which is not yer drunken by the insect,
feels cold and thick, so I have to think about an escape concept.
They call me an artist, a freak, hippie, crazy man,
if not everyone is, I do the best I can.
To share everything, giving hope blood & tears.
Let`s drink, laugh, dance and talk, I love you all, cheers.

– Life is a tale told by an idiot –

M.Klein Ferrara (18. – 19.6.14)

This entry was posted in proDUCtiON, skE.T.ch & tEXt... and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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