Yesterday a man walked through the city
and he walked down the main road
Yesterday a man walked through the city
and I saw him from my window
He played a chorale on his flute
it had the sound of a bell
and all the grief was there
that beautiful, long tone
And that's when suddenly I knew
yes, that is him
that's him
I ran out into the streets
wearing just a nightgown
in between garbage around the transhcans
rats were playing catch
And in the warm beds
all the passions and hatreds
silently were squirming
all the domestic pictures
And i wanted the answer
to my questions
questions
Na ná-na na ná-na na
na ná-na na ná-na na
na-na na-na ná-ná
na ná-na na ná-na na
na-na na-na ná-ná
na ná-na na ná-na na
na-na na-na ná-ná
I caught up with that man
and seized him by his coat
the coat was made of snake skin
and it felt strangely cold
And he turned around
and his eyes were full of crows
and scars around his eyes
He has been stabbed all over
And that's when suddenly I knew
who was this man
this man
He was trembling with fear
when I walked up to him
and he had a flute in his mouth
made by Hieronymus Bosch
The Moon sat above the houses
like a teal on the water
like my conscience
when it vomits in the toilet
And that's when suddenly I knew
yes that's the Wastrel
my Wastrel
My Wastrel
the vagabond of Fate and of love
who walks through all the dreams
but avoids the daylight
My Wastrel, the beautiful evil
poison under his tongue
when he sells door-to-door
needles and dictionaries
Yesterday a man walked through the city
a door-to-door dealer
he walked, but he doesn't walk anymore
the sidewalk got splattered with blood
I took his flute
and it had the sound of a bell
and all the grief was there
that beautiful, long tone
And that's when suddenly I knew
yes- I am him
I am him
Your Wastrel
the vagabond of Fate and of love
who walks through all the dreams
but avoids the daylight
Your Wastrel, the beautiful evil
poison under my tongue
when I sell door-to-door
needles and dictionaries
Na ná-na na ná-na na
na-na na-na ná-ná
na ná-na na ná-na na
na-na na-na ná-ná
Your Wastrel
the vagabond of Fate and of love
who walks through all the dreams
but avoids the daylight