I turn off the television, I write you a letter
About how I can't look at the shit any longer
About how I don't have the strength,
About how I nearly started to drink, but haven't forgotten you
About how the telephone rang and wanted me to get up,
Get dressed and go, or rather to run off
But I sent him off,
Said that I was sick and tired and didn't sleep last night
I await an answer, no longer any hope left
Soon the summer will end
This
But with the weather we've been lucky, it is raining for the fourth day in a row
Though on the radio they said that even the shade would be hot
But in the shade where I am,
For now it's dry and warm, but I am afraid still
And the days go uneventfully, on one we eat, and on three we drink,
And rather merrily we live, despite the rain in the window.
The tape recorder broke,
I sit in the silence, rather quite pleased
I await an answer, no longer any hope left
Soon the summer will end
This
Outside the window there's construction, the crane is working,
And for the fifth year in a row, the restaurant on the corner is closed.
And on the table is a jar,
And in the jar is a tulip, but on the window is a glass.
And this is how it goes year by year, this is how life will pass,
And for the hundredth time the toast will fall butter-side down.
But maybe there will be at least a day,
But maybe there will be at least an hour when things go our way
I await an answer, no longer any hope left
Soon the summer will end
This
I await an answer, no longer any hope left
Soon the summer will end
This