and here i dreamt i was a soldier and i marched the streets of Birkenau and i recall in spring the perfume that the air would bring to the indolent town where the barkers call the moon down the carnival was ringing loudly now and just to lay with you there's nothing that i wouldn't do save lay my rifle down
The truth is an offence But not a sin Is he who laugh last, children Is he who win Is a foolish dog Bark at the flying bird One sheep must learn To respect the shepherd