There is a landscape in my head I sometimes travel But this is strictly after dark Beyond the barricades and trenches There stands the factory And me the costum of the sad acrobat And he says: Son, this is the bread I break for you But do not touch it And he says: Son, this is the wine I pour for you But do not drink it Dein aschenes Haar, Sulamith And he says: Son, this is the bread I break for you Son, this is the wine I pour for you But do not drink it, don’t drink at all… There is a stranger on the shore I sometimes travel But this is strictly in my dreams He feeds the seagulls in the winds with ashes And as he speaks he’s got my father’s voice And he says: Son, here is some bread I broke for you Son, here is some wine.. Those were the days, my friend Dein aschenes Haar, Sulamith Der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland