There's a cold German in a bar in Berlin With the blueprints of an architect still searching through His pockets for a dream-maker or a chance-taker Or the will he should have written by now But he's been thinking bout them ships sinking For his whole half-lived private school life At home silver spoons gleaming In his eyes a vision dark as midnight in Berlin Where we stand fearing it's all a bit much As great incubators ventilate to compensate Our every step and repay each breath And he sees building rising, sees mice climbing Thinks of how the fall has come and gone And all its color and calm Now lay surrendered to Salvation Army vendors Life insurance witch doctors All these poor men in rich men's clothes And the snow in Berlin covering everything in white dress Making us all look like such creatures tonight And that wall is going up and coming down again And we'll celebrate like it's the first time Not just in our minds As that snow piles up and he begins to look so mysterious Like, "Oh, my God, I can see him now That ghost writer saying, 'Hello, Spider You're in my web now and I will see that you're never at ease'" And his eyes screaming for a soul to see him Pull him out and free him from that pitiful rabbit suit Just drops down right in the street and lies there Getting lighter and lighter til it's static in every view And the snow in berlin covering everything in white dress Making us all look like such creatures tonight Just the snow in Berlin covering everything in white dress Making us all look like such creatures tonight Making us look like creation's lucky bride Making us look like such beautiful things stood up tonight
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