Romantische Landschaft mit Menschenopfer

Romantische Landschaft mit Menschenopfer
Weißt Du wieviel Wolken gehen weithin über alle Welt...

Dienstag, 9. Februar 2010

Bereschith* II.

Revisited Augmented & Enhanced & Improved & Reenforced

*(The first word of the Thora)

Loneliness is 'The State' we're in
There'll probably never be daylight again
My ship has passed beyond Ouran
Ahead of me Alderbaran

The Sun a tiny twinkling point
I'm to 'The Rest Of Mankind' joint
The Earth exploded in a dream
That haunts my sleep, still makes me scream

There's no return, no place to go
I do not know what I should do
How many time do we yet have ?
(Only my children made me brave...)

Our ship it creeps like a dust's Atom
Darkness where we go to and are coming from
Ahead, behind, all seems the same
Don't know now whereat my ship to aim...

No goal, no task to do or bethink...
And deep beneath the stars we shrink
Just (f)our lost souls alone in space
Oh Mother, you left me at this place

There's no direction to be made out
No voice to answer even when I shout
I'm deaf and blind it seems to me
All around of me but black Eternity

And I, so weak, so small, so lost
Oh Universe, I'm at your host
Your mercy, if you own something like this
Why must I live if there's death's bliss ?

To break 'The Chain of Death and Birth'
To leave 'The W o r l d', not just 'The Earth '...
I do not wish Eternity
Of life for me and my family

I've already long seen it all
I've read the signs on every wall
I know, I see, I'm sure it's done
The End of man will surly come

And why not to be glad about The End
To release us to freedom unbent ?
No more suffering, no injustice
No starving children, nor protest

No desperation about love
No fading hope about Heaven above
Oh Mother take us home again
We've long been lost and live in vain...

Since thousands of years I flew to the moon
And now they call all my thoughts to be just a swoon
Just a glimpse of a wish did take me everywhere
Whereever they arrive: I am and I have been there

Since I have talked to Brahman, Allah and Agnih
And Shiva, Krishna, Lakshmi, Vishnu and Kali
I did not need rockets or high-tech and all that
But only clear insight, justification, imagination and thought

And with a minimum of wasting precious energy
And merely with thinking's and phantasy's economy...
You might regard it to be just another hint:
I didn't even leave a single hand- or footprint

It was the pleasure of my leisure-hours
The signs I left were not mine, but ours
I never cared to hide it behind fence or hedge
Or claimed for it to be my personal privilege

And I surly did put it to the test
To convince the big-wigs in science and industry
(But any attempt since years was just a waste
Their ignorance nearly did cost me my own sanity)

For instance how machine and communication
Needed not only mathematics and administration
But as one of it's essentials for future progress
In business and competence, the poet's access

I did meet with either the paranoid's resistance
Or, if not that, then with the successfuls' ignorance
But since they begin to stare at the possibility to fall
They try to play the game with me as the ball

But I tell you whatever they'll try or'll be doin'
They still will never ever reach the moon
Or if they do - they'll still hear the poet's laughter:
It might be some kind'a moon, but not the one they were after !

If you should ever attempt to play with the poet or writer
He may become a hidden and silent traitor
And before you start - a parrot pretending to think
Trying to make the one you learn from to shrink

You could be confronted with the experience
That your should-be prisoner has jumped the fence
Giving your business-enemy idea and advance
And again you did miss the golden chance...

Be sure that there will be enough years and time
To make you loose not only once again
Intelligence, that is the mind's capability
To make you miss the truth throughout all of your history

Since I still know that all of Life is only One
And that to be `a person' is a biological illusion
I cling to only one meaning of `communication'
And that there will be only this one - or none

Indeed, for business-purpose you need the trick
To make claims for information-distribution to become asymetric
The less people know how most of `knowledge' spells
The more you can make out of it, the better it sells...?

Since, as I can see, there is no sense
In acquired instruments or any kind of existence
And everything meets just senseless ends
I am not really in need of formal eloquence

If business is all it is needed for
To be cheated by politics, teachers or a whore
For the purpose usually use is made thereof
To howl, show teeth or bite and bark would be enough

Instead you really need all your capability and intelligence
To get behind all meaning of the precious speeches and eloquence
And when you finallly found out through earnest exploring
All sense has vanished, and the rest is just boring

Still the vagabond and your orphan stand
Either with a gun or the beggar's cup in their hand
And science and technology and your space-ships grant
You to be able for on another desert's ball to land

The walk of life (love) it leads nowhere
Whereever I arrive there's nobody there
No call of mine has been replied
The Universe is still vast and void

It's like if God has stopped Creation whence
In Bereschith, right at the second sentence:
Everything appears still as if HE had just begun -
And left in Darknesse a work undonne

Here and there Agnih has some fire lit
And then He seemed to be not sure about it
About what to do and how and why
(Maybe He heard the children cry ?)

And into the forlorn chaos and waste has entered
'Kali', to establish the chain of birth and death
Yet, though as mother Nature she`s productive at her best
She takes all her products to (s)mother them at her breast

But since Everything is Complete in 'Elohim'
To be or not to be does'nt mean a thing
And maybe though 'SHE' did not undo 'HE' quit
And left it, at 'The Second of Bereschith'

Now that's where we really are, you might well see
And do'nt be deluded about all the greenery
The creeping, running, flying things
To cradle you in living dreams

Of life, of hope, of warmth, reason and sense -
It's but delusion's hindering fence
There's nothing living behind those eyes
Just an urge for combination's dice

While mass-media-crooks in fear of their fading charm
Warn you with regard of crooks to do you harm
They want you - to stay on the other side of 'their' fence
Claim to be at your 'Service as The So(u)l(e)and The Central Intelligence'

And behind propositions, feelings, senses, lies
Hollow Darkness beyond Blue Skies
That my friend is where you really are
In a holiday's-dream in the midst of a nightmare

And beyond the borders of your playground's trees
Everywhere nothing but perishing vanities
So turn around, try here and there
Everywhere you go nothing but a nightmare

And close underneath a light blue fence
Upon a ball you, Homo sapiens sapiens
An exploding crowd with No Path to go
Soon about or more than eight billion or so

'The Individual' but a bug, a crutch
Together hardly more than a mass of cockroaches
Running hastily here and there
For food and shelter, gettin' nowhere (aware?)

Left alone to remain still a bit
Until a fiery blast will surly hit
And nothing to regret about it
It's just that point near 'The Second of Bereschith'

Thirty or more percent of every generation to the least
Through 'Socialisation' are put away to the waste
For another about sixty a useless life is found
And all together we are doomed to be Ghetto-bound

You might think, you are the winner, and that you've got the success
And that in the end you can make a deal out of every mess
That you are always the biggest, yes that you surely are the champ
To turn this world into just a 'global' concentrations-camp

Do'nt you think it is time for another gay and merry war
To help to unburden mankind from it's heavy load down here
How about delivering at least a good deal of this suffering and weary mass
Through your newest models of your highly-effective chemical gas ?

Is'nt freedom, if it is correct responsibly to assert
Not realized unless all of mankind down here is definitely dead
And is it not but one step of using the chances for it's realisation
(In spite of want of 'Jews' at hand) to realize self-ghettoisation ?

And should'nt the next step be, when the hall is filled up to the edge
To open all the cans and uproot even the germs of every tree and hedge
And the last step closer to Thee, Oh 'Mankind's Goal of Final Emancipation'
Should'nt consequently be straight-forward global self-vaporisation ?

And when there's doubt about if it another demonstration is
Of 'Problem-Solving through Means of Modern Sciences'
To artificially produce what from nature you eliminate
You might just once more well scientifically investigate

For instance as the utmost of your 'Acting-out of Absurdity'
In 'Research of Shaping Life' through the help of Gen-Technology
While at the same time you deeply meditate about
How with the least amount of work at best all of it can be wiped out

I am sure that you will feel not the least of disgust
If mass-murder will finally be computerized
It is high-time to 'take grip of the profitable chance'
For this kind of 'unavoidable scientific Advance'

Nearly all of the powers of this world are in vain
Syndroms of a variety of a declining Brain
But since 'The Law' is but The Mind's 'Reflection of the Balance of Ecology'
I am sternly relating to the power of 'Pure Morality'

'Social' life is hardly less than a permanent 'War'
Peace may forever the outsider's Kains-mark bear
But while with raping and violence you might spend your time
I go on to invest myself boldly into 'Pure Reason and Rhyme'

While you are rolling along like a black-gleaming Scarab‚e
With your globe, in a gloomy waste of Infinity
Tell me, what-for should Satellite-TV or Radio-astronomy be good
If you cannnot even talk to your nearest Neighbourhood ?

Think of a world-of-man within a computerized communication-net
In endless echoes always repeating only the same old shit
Enhanced and amplified by a globe's power of energy
Radiating into outer Space it's intellectual catastrophe

Think of the grand results of Scientific-Technical Revolution
And the progress in mankind's collective infantilization:
The more complex and developed The Machinery's Scientific Mind
The more simple and stupid seems to grow The Herd of Whole of Mankind

Should it really be the meaning of the sum of the process
To restrain to the personnell of the machinery the progress
And to book with regard of the rest on account of success
To hold them down in the holes of superstition, fear and regress ?

Speak frankly, if this is what your intention will be
Be sure, that I definitely will never agree
As far as I am concerned my choice is all right
And it is 'you' to choose now, 'if you want Fire or Light !'

Take a look at billions of lives being put down to trash
Why then don't we all finally do the Monster-Mash ?
Come on, let's finish it and drop 'The Bomb'
Take The Short-Cut-Ticket back into mother's womb

If you know something about history you can well see
That success has still the same old philosophy:
Let twenty percent of population all the burdens bear
And let seventyfive percent live in permanent fear

Only the witnessing of hunger and suffering
Keeps the seventy-five percent on the run
When danger for property and life seems to be at stake
There's guarantee for the masses to being kept awake !

So push your children once more into the race of mass-education
And let the result once more be merely random decision
If they fall, resign, rise, vanish, remain
It's only another generation to live in vain

Philosophical Anthropology has to be rewritten
I do long know the way to do it, but I keep it well hidden
Imagine it to be realized by maybe ten or twenty percent
It might be sufficient for the final Enlightenment !

Old books contain various kinds of philosophy
One of them saying, the question is: to be or not to be...
I'm convinced that indeed the question rather might
Be - again - : should it be Fire or should it be Light

Mankind is dancing in a coloured dream
Beneath a burning red and yellow light to beam
From Heaven stronger than all of Life's desire
And both are light, and both are fire

Such narrow is our mortal Path
Between sleepy swoon and madness' wrath
Only a momentum of scarcely one degree
Between us all and dark Eternity

Let me tell you something and listen, beloved Liberty
I cannot really believe that you are incapable to see
That, though you are still strong and there is still success
You are yet on the road of progressing recess

There's too much restrictive power upon your masses' brain
And you are rendering more of them daily weary and insane
And instead of helping them intellectually to awake and rise
You are dedicating more of your herd to the slaughter-house

Rise early, concentrate, get out of your bathing-gown
And don't forget about the hair-curlers from your head to take down
Turn off colour-TV, reeducate and keep your books at hand
The whole world's knowledge is at your paperback-command

If you didn't stop smoking, don't use alcohol and drugs
It will turn out to be a handicap through life's lonely walks
Eat cautiously, because when you've got a problem to solve
It's good to be concious and aware like a hungry wolf

Do not terrorize your children, they are everything you own
Lift your people higher up instead and bring the missiles down
And in but one generation's time we could be able to see
The result of a proud mother's liberating education-strategy

Imagine to spend all your world's skills and virtue
To dwell on Research in Space for a few thousand years or so
And the outcome of your search for Alien Intelligence would be
To meet if but one more Being of at least (y)our own monstrosity !

Imagine another Being listening to (y)our message and noise
Lightyears away safe in remote outer Space
Carefully summoning it's diagnosis of it
And - being serene, wise and cautious - remaining silent and quiet -

In another section would still others live
Who would not be able to recognize, feel or to receive
Your precious message (maybe a virus or an ant ?)
Incapable to consider, to talk or to understand

Only the Virus, if it but could receive
As far as you where one of his opportunities to live
Would not ask for what else your message might conceal
And maybe start upon you, as you being just another meal

And of an A(r)utist you will never be able to tell
Wheter he or she is living in Heaven or in Hell
Since Signals, though they might to his Existence be due
Even if you think you 'understood', must not bear 'any' or 'that' Relation to you

You will never be sure, however you may concentrate
On the other hand, if there are God, intending to communicate
With you, through Your senses, and Their Creation
It might be Knowledge, Belief, Madness or simply Delusion

Just a few possibilities to sit down and weep
At The Banks of Babylon, if your Emotion does run deep
And your Consciousness is able to realize even why...
Be sure it is Time for all The Roman Heroes to cry

Come home from your wars, from your insane wrath
From your obsession of this kind of progress, there 'is' another path
Yesterday's hunger is long gone, there must be no reason to bother
It would be good to start here and now, turning to Sister and Brother

'Listen Israel !' hasn't God (or have You?) long resigned
If you ever once believed or if HE really ever reigned
Maybe Your wise men and their books tell You lies about it
Because HE left everything at The Second of Bereschith

And that's how it surly will finally stay
If you do not immediately change your way
Turn around, get aware and remember it:
That still everything is left to 'Bereschith.'

And with respect to Cultural Progress and Scientific 'Modernisation'
Was'nt that a token of 'The Idea of Continuous Creation'
Does it make sense to raise competition with nature's construction
By perfecting by all means no means but those of destruction ?

So let's face it and confess it right
That most of our hopes in Her or Him have died
Like children's, embarrassed about what they've done:
Destroy the violine to see where the tone has come from, that's gone

Let's stand together one more time
Let's once more gather around reason and rhyme
Let's realize our chance to win
If we simply give up to argue with Her or Him

Let's realize The Law of Life
Of being here for - though not only - labour and strive
Let's see that His and Mother's will
If 'we' abuse it, it makes 'us' ill

I dreamed about how we could go on:
I saw a crowd, reaching far beyond the horizon
And around the globe all the billions cried:
In unison: 'LET THERE BE LIGHT !'

But if you really make up your decision for light
For your own sake be sure that your intention is all right
Because since if you are free to choose, and if you are up to play with it
'One' kind of all-pervading fire or light will sincerely be lit

It depends on what everybody in his own place does do
There is no doubt that this world's existence depends on everyone of you
Be careful to handle your Greed, Deed, Ambition and Desire
When you set out to sing: 'Come on Baby, Light my Fire !'

It is partly a problem of Knowledge, partly one of Trust
And into Belief to a certain degree again you've got to invest
There's no need to be anxious, suspicious or ignorant to differentiation
And in the end we could at best make it a combination

Of 'Fire with Light !', maybe it is how peace should be erected
I agree in so far as the tiger's teeth must be extracted
And before something serious really happens to be at stake
Talking about teeth: we need to keep an eye upon the rattle-snake.

But when you start feeling anger about the poet's voice behind your back
Be glad instead that I am staying obstinately at your track
I know and can tell you it's easier to carry that load
When you can be sure that there is someone at your track on the road

It were the outsider's advice and the prophet's wrath
That managed to bring Israel back up on it's Path
And it was David's song that tended Shaul
When he lay, face to the wall, in 'Erez Israel'

It can make you realize the sense of to remember
The anecdote about what, when he in Athen, Alexander
Said, whence confronted with an old beggar's zynism he was
To his men: "If I was not Alexander, I was Diogenes" !

And even Mars in Rome coming from his war as a god
Was associated to a naked slave on his triumphant-chariot
Who at the same instance held the laurel above his head
Murmuring constantly: "you are only a mortal, god"!

And if you think of still another opportunity
Maybe just to get rid of a traitor or an idioty
Remember the fool's function and even Judas Ischariot
To keep kings and even another mortal god on the road

Who might have lived in fear (thanks Mick) about his moments of doubt
When he was struck by the idea to quit the play and get out
Of his role or to rewrite his own script, and as the remedy
Wrote this role for 'The Traitor', to save our history

Now triumph's chariots stand with fading paint
And we all are but to an ox-calf restrained
And the kings and gods, instead of riding on it
For at it's yoke to pull they are alltogether summoned

And Mars, the human god and great warrior
Has to go back to school and turn to be an administrator
And that, in turn, might well the illumination bring
That the biggest fool is just the former king

So, since I am just 'private', and maybe not even 'first class'
And you are The Commander, who is raised by a huge mass:
Are you sure that you really lead and not just run ahead
Like, I am convinced, 'Der (notorios) Fuhrer' did ?

It is one thing to be the foam on top of the billows a'rolling
Another one to be the helmsman who for the course-device is a'calling
Another task to stand steadfast while others are a'drifting
Or to command through the waves of opportunities shifting

Let's head for a goal, a collective task, work on plans
Are we not obliged to give freedom another chance ?
Or will you stand at the sea-shore and gaze at the waves
From your Ivory-Tower, while the others make the pace ?

Sentence the fat to hunger and the drinking to thirst
Deprive the lazy of leisure and the successful of applause
Take at least 'something' from everyone and give it another distribution
It could strengthen all together for a new and creative solution

Actually there's no reason to resign or to carry on
Actually there's no sense in #any# kind of (re)solution
But since we are here and you have got the position
Striving for something good can be due to a good decision

Friendship and enmity are only extreme and distinct choices
To keep things going and arouse opportunity for noises
Which, being dispersed globally all about the people
Maintain the impression that something 's going on around the steeple

You can blow it up and it's not only your family
But instead a mass of beings outstreched in Infinity
Of history, and it depends on the suppositions of your view
Wether to leave everything as it is or to design it anew

The natural Law of Inertia may bar your road
The institutions you find be fettered in a roundabout
Gravitation may be found an irresistible force
And after every revolution everthing appear even worse

Your allied partners' leaders are trying their best
To misuse everything they can for but a moment's jest
And they rely upon freedom's 'meaning' and 'philosophy'
Rendering the world next to it's political agony

And although the pragmatical skunks are badly stinking
They are proud of their 'capability' of short-range-thinking
And if you dared that he stinks to remind one of those
He will sternly reply: "that is not I, that is your nose" !

And because their brain all connotation of 'idea' has released
They're convinced that life-function of all of idea has ceased
You better keep the sword above their heads, hanging on a hair
To be readily in charge of the double-tongued traitor

Is there a fight going on for the so-called `European Soul'
Or is it just a discussion about sort of a Black Hole ?
I feel persist and smell it, you might say I am a sick mind
The Soul of Auschwitz, 'Kristallnacht' and Reichstagsbrand

And though you still can - yet - by politics - avoid the Big-Bang
You may feel to be hardly more than the first in a chain-gang
You maybe are bound to what Augustus or Herakleius II. did
And I do not know if I really liked to be Ovid

It is hardly possible still to be correctly understood
All the meanings have been distorted, abused and wasted
Everything you say through dubious intentions is selected
And you can scarcely be perceived if you are not thoroughly detected

For instance, if you want to explain your policy
To people at home and in another country's colour-TV
If you reheard it you could make out misunderstanding mediation
And be sure that there will be poor and selected translation

If you are up to clear your mind and to think problems over
They will try, making noise, not to give you time to recover
They'll talk together aloud unceasingly with accelerating pace
To drown you in a sea of rethorics beyond your conciousness' surface

Then if you maybe finally become tired and deaf and numb
They will be uproaring in triumph: he was always stupid and dumb !
Be sure that there is a fight and a wrestling going on
And watch out for round four when they'll try to knock you down

Your fellow-politician somewhere, your ally, the 'news-reporter'
Hardly more than another quick and clever meaning-distorter
To cut it short I can try to give you a glimpse of my impression:
If you meditate upon the current meaning of the word 'sensation'

It designs the differential of the slightest sensual perception
As such the idea of the material for reasoning and reflection
And in turn the current meaning lies between or among
An earth-quake, mass-murder, high-jacking and The-Big-Bang

Could it be that we are nurturing a huge mass of addicts
Who from day to day are in need of harder stuff and shots
And the more to communication-drugs they are baptisized
The more, as the output, they are desensibilized ?

However, you certainly think of how your politics to explain
But through mass-media you might appear as if you were insane
You might be reduced to a spot, a flashing moment, or a word
Which through your interpreter's flowing comment hardly can be heard

Later or before, in contrast to it's perceivable importance
You might stare endlessly at a stammering puppet seductively to dance
And a nearly-mute jumping-jack through your mind will imbue
Singing: "don't let the system fool you, all it wanna do is rule you" !

And #then# there is time enough, you can watch that for hours
Their importance is weightened by roaring applause and flowers
In turn, whatever will be your own intention's maintainance
It will be taken from your image and reduced to a rag of a sen(ten)se

You might have a clear and irresistable conception of the whole
For withdrawal of danger, promotion of economics and the sick to console
But to come through in mass-media it might be worse to be a politician
And you'd rather make-up for being a belly-dancer or a rocking-musician

As far as I am concerned I have found a solution, and again
I put everything I'm thinking of into pure-reason-and-rhyme
But even though I know my song well and I was handsome and strong
I know 'my' singing didn't please you: 'the words I sang were wrong!'

Although I am clearly able to think and to sing my own true song
I am long since bound for in an ocean of billions to drown
But since I know who I am it will not cost me a mind's frown
Instead proving that it is possible to remain perfectly unknown !

Now, still you may think you've come through and they could not resist
But you'll only find yourself put down in another clichée's list
You are chained-up to another one of those media-tricks
Because, if it is Music and a Song, then it's not Politics

I want to make you to see that this is your own future fate
Not to be preserved for you for the time after your retreat
It is one of the peculiarities scientific modernisation has had:
The better you are ignored through analysis, the closer you are to God !

Once you get out upon the stage you turn into a screen
And for the spectator only his own imaginations are to be seen
And the blind, having touched feet, belly or trunk with their hand
Are eloquently conversing about the Gestalt of the Elephant

To come back once again to the point I did mention:
Mass-media will never simply work out your intention
You will be more perfectly hidden the more you seem to be shown
And God Himself in the end is just the final and The Completely Unknown !

That indeed will lead us back to Unity of Beginning and End
And The Creator's necessary fate is well illustrated:
Whatever plan He was conceived with to design or to mend
He had to retreat from everything at The Second of Bereschith

And that too is just due to heterogeneous interpretation
It must not mislead you from knowing your point and moment's station
And the better you are able to stir through course-distorting strain
With Knowledge, Insight and Justification, the closer you are to Man !

Contingency seemingly maintains a disagreeable relation
Between Creator and Creation, badly bridged through communication
It seems as if being subjected to understanding and interpretation:
Say, do you know anybody being content with Their Creation ?

Should I tell you the reason why He disappeared beyond perception
And retreated beyond Space where there's not home, meadows or harbours ?
He wanted to be sure not to be involved into communication's deception
And make sure not to be condemned to have such disagreeable neighbours !

Another one of the fundamental question's metamorphosis
Is found in that to handle the problem of communication is
Trough delusion, deception, and Maya's appearance to stir:
By repeatedly deciding whether to appear or not to appear

There's vast amount of contingency of communications
Depending upon the systematic gap of human relations
And it is one thing about what the one to make a sentence would have found
And not neccessarily the same thing what you find out when you 'understand'

It does not mean that there must be an evil mind
It is enough that to be 'a person' means to be restrained
And that imagination can work, still, on specialized plans
Without having an idea of how The Whole can be kept in balance

It needs a pure mind to speak without hesitation
(Or a rhetorical automate's autosuggestive inclination)
And still, whatever your motive or intention 'really' was
At least part of the meaning you produce will be unconscious

So, whatever another one might apprehend and understand
That it too belongs to Your meanings cannot be abandoned
And it needs thoroughly thinking and deep meditation
To catch a glimpse of the mechanisms of Meaning-Creation

For instance, to compare it with the ray of the sun
Reflected to earth, and altered, by the moon
Or vice versa: not direction nor colour are the same
And the 'echo' upon a 'surface' will change it ever again

And the weary- and the out-worn-, and even the farest outsider's brain
Can't be excluded from meaning and communicative participation
Because if upon a person or a group constantly the elbows are used
They become results of - and that's understood - being misused and abused

Meanings are dispersed about the social field
Through human brains to which they are yield
And each, as conciousness, self or person
To meaning's ocean is just one contribution

As for the apparently world-wide learning-process:
Mankind always follows instinctively it's most impressing heroes
Take a look, for instance at the Khmer in Indochina
How those stone-age-children learned to play the game of (y)our war !

And because they accepted that you are the greatest, the champ
They outraced Germany and it's old-fashioned concentration-camp
Now you don't say that you really think that they are not ahead
When nearby they besides already have your computers imitated ?

Such provided with your modern equipment and their history's mind
Nay, aren't those cute little yellow natives intelligent ?
You have studied them long and you finally found out
What all of their marriage-rites, shamanism and witchcraft is about

You've observed them with indefatigable earnestness and glee
And you attained your diploma and your doctor's degree
But you missed, because the professor did hypnotize you
To be aware of 'the rats' observing and conditioning you

Or, as another example, which-ever of your greedy Company
Teaching people in far-and-near-south-and-east rude or reckless to be
How to penetrate into everything being for sale or within reach
Without caring for rites, customs or the rules of marriage

And finally not to be your slave, donkey or fool
Instead insisting of being taken over by their home-rule
Shifting from being your hashish-addict assassin
To make your children the heroes - for their own heroin(e) !

And to finish the shape of the design of your heavy load
Your did'nt hesitate to bring them the word of your God
To make them capable to understand and to live on your advice
And find out that you yourself do not follow it's device

With respect to Germany, at least as I c a n see
You have stumbled into just another mistake's misery
Since you executed a few figures and then let it be
All the Nazis have vanished behind urban-democratic-integrity

But the grey curtain of formal-democratic-scenery
Does collide head-on (thanks Bob) with report of social-psychology
You will have to choose in sight of the alternative:
Should it be the surface mocking you, or Scientific Analysis ?

As you can be sure that the witch is he or she
To tell you that witchcraft is a mad and magic fantasy
You can be sure that they will swear proof and advice
That This Jewish Delusion cannot be regarded being science

The clever ones have taken another path
Of hiding in the most refined of the mascerade
They were the first to recognize that the best one is
Not to argue with you but to become your scientists

While others hide in proper mascerade
Of being in charge for decision of who's the renegade
And while there's question of where all the former Nazis might be
They preach from the pulpit of Moral Science, History and Theology

As for the progress in case of efforts for social control
German 'Beamte' since '33 again are in care of 'The Whole'
Since they have been the requisite and presupposition
Of mass-murder and of the millions' gasification

The doctor's, the scientist's and the judge's job
Is as before to keep the knaves on top
And as the summit of the return of idolatry
Fascism turned to be scientific and law or analytical therapy

To avoid smoking chimneys, international protest or demonstration
They acquired licence for intellectual- and social-gasification
It leaves no bodies, wounded and slain
Wo'nt be recognized in suicide or madness of brain

Intelligent they are finding a completely new version
Not to concentrate the outcasts but to hide them through dispersion
It needs no ovens, baracks, Wachpersonal or electrified fence
And raises Concentration-camps and Diaspora to the fourth potence

But to put off breeches, admire Beethoven and Durer
And avoid replying: "Jawoll, mein Fuhrer" !
And to be a true ally, if not - for instance of - The United States
Must not open, nay, it may be closing even The Golden Gates !

Being kids, for years, oh how we used to play war...
Learning from them all, who definitely had done it before
There's no wondering about but easy to see
Why adults tried to teach me their adultery

While this is going on I keep-on-trucking reason and rhyme
And you might go on rendering me to be insane
There were Roman soldiers before disturbing my circles
And I meet them still standing in the woods near the old Limes

Above the gate of the entrance of Dante's hell
A sign read: "enter here and let all hope fall..."
And the letters on the gate of Auschwitz still cry
Like a revolution's grafitti: "Arbeit macht frei" !

And that together makes the 'logic' of modern live:
Let all hope fall and live for labour and strive
Do'nt ask for reward, understanding, meaning and sense
And work for only one: The Alien Intelligence...!

You yourself do know well those backwarded One's
Who rather dwell in nightmares instead of opening their eyes
To risk but a glance at progress and modernisation
Lacking serenity, sanity and the adult peoples' patience

They who are not able to consider if what they see
Could be nothing else but their own echoed insanity
And wonder why the sane ultimately must arise
To collect them and dedicate them to the chambers of gas

As for the one's you had to be undergone to be reeducated
In spite of shrinking interest they were rendered as being misleaded
And since you yourself did not master the native's vernacular
You had to listen to any kind of to-be-suspected interpreter

And you are wise to see I am but another one of those
 Who are trying to mislead  y o u  for their hidden purpose
May this trick convince you of the maliciousness of my race
To mislead you by confessing it right into your face

Should anybody ask you of what consequences all that is
And point at the forbodings of the catastrophe
You might sternly answer that it is just business
And commit The False Prophets of Doomsday to psychiatry

But no sovereignty should ever hesitate
To hasten at first to delegate
At least one single soul to work for the sense
Of specializing to be it's on-Science

Yet, all kings and rulers and even the 'democratic' mass
In need of self-restraint, when it came to pass
That it took up it's work and played it's role
For instance like the geese on the hill of the Capitol

Did, as con-sequent as they denied all restraint
And because greed and vice let their conscience fade and faint
Mistake the touchstone of the world of man: the Zaddik
As being to irresponsibility and violence just a hindering brick

So, if one of the Honourables tells you that it's 'bad anthropology'
To propose warfare as being man's nature, urging violently
Then: there's nothing as easy as the empirical proof
That such 'conviction' or 'theory' cannot be the truth

But as long as it still is as it always was - or worse
It can be yet at least a very good working-hypothesis
And I am sure that Sir Carl Popper will be on my side
If I invite you kindly to contribute to have it falsified

By the way, it should be mentioned that melancholy
Is a compromise of consciousness with naked reality
Combined with the insight into the impossibility
To realize a nevertheless existing Idea of pure Humanity...

I don't trust in peace, but I am haunted instead
By a vision of a world-of-man to the utmost crowded
With men fighting for advantages or food, and making waste
And treating the next as their enemy first and last

Since wars turned to be worse, since all kinds of destruction
Are not only the menace, but an effect of mass-production
And mankind and difficulties are still exploding fast
I myself might be but cause and effect of a waste... -

My father, as a youth, did engage in the first war
And he died shortly after the second of pneumonia
While his fate was a topic to be mocked upon
By a so-called want-to-be 'Dichter' by the name of Thomas Mann

He was not yet dead when another auspicious young man
Coming home from the second war used to put my mother on
Since he was used to violence and adultery
He felt free enough to break into an outbombed family

He increased the people he left at least by one
After treating everything he liked - and me - with compulsion
And then finally leaving for the land of all hope
He just turned his back to trash rotting on life's slope

When my brother had died from a creeping disease
The bombs had long begun to drop like rain from bleeding skies
And while we were shrieking in deep and dark dump, forlorn
Another of my lucky family, my younger sister was born

Silently, through war's terror and noises
Our - children's - fragile world fell into pieces
And when bombing ceased, and cold and hunger came
We all turned to be mad, psychotic and insane

We were a very easy bounty then
For teachers, judges, doctors, or irresponsible young men
Breaking violently into our home
Scattering our minds - you might think they have won

Left and slandered again and again
We turned back to ourselves and did trust none
That did fit into so-called 'reality'
Which indeed was a mass-murder-scenery

They, who had killed successfully and most
Came back to be fathers, husbands, teachers, judge and host
Being killers, they were raised, honoured and dispensed
I am today, but they were then experienced

Those friendly 'uncles' all around
To social authority and success they were bound
Since they surly had learned how it was to be mad(e)
And I, should I dare to stand in their road ?

Undressed of their uniforms, there was no killer far and by
Nobody - except them - could know who and what they were
Of crooks and killers social world seemed to be void
Only, apparently, they all were rather paranoid !

Being used to have a deadly enemy
And not being able for in themselves him to see
And being held down - or supported - by a stronger one
They turned upon their children, and the coming generation

And now it was t h e easiest thing to do
One one hand the minds of the children to imbue
Covering them all with the delusion of order and authority
The killer's face hiding thrice behind humanity

Once by pointing at the common enemy
Second by usurping education-authority
Thrice by turning to invade the children's minds
And deluding them all with all kinds of lies

While on the other for a few who still urged to come through
It were Herodes and his hidden crew
To be sure at least for this fight to win
If somebody should dare and start to argue

Or at least in this case not to give in -
Now they showed all the world again who they have always been
It depends on who did succeed to convince you
Whether you believe that this is what-for they needed you

Now, don't believe that the Sieger are long dead
They still hit you and me daily upon our head
I am sure, they will try, before they must leave
To make all of the world their version believe

And indeed you can see that it is 'scientific conviction'
That - though social reality since is but a terror's fiction -
They insist that it must be some hundred years
Before you and me should be able to realize what it is

"It is a question of too close distances" -
And if you suppose otherwise, it must be your fancies
So, whatever your belief in this case might be
It is never sufficient to gain a doctor's degree

"Such is life, child, we will make you believe " -
(And if it might be not of duration, it's at least as long as we live)
And after we are dead you'll be weary and tired
And be sure you are alone, the truth will not be hired

There are too much of them to participate
In 'the social order', the one we have made
So, even after we have gone you'll make no advance
And to look for an address will be of no proper chance

Still you look for a soul, and you do have a vision
- And you work on the expression your mind has imbued -
Of 'the thinker' and 'the Dichter', of search for the truth
But the thinker is the killer and puts you down in competition

'Professor' Muller was not the only one
Of the ones in Hannover to put me on
Due to met-em-psychosis it must have been done
That he was discovered to be a little Napoleon

And since he had - as you know - lost at Waterloo
It was here his spirit had his dream come true
This time he is luckier than before
His ally, as usual, was a little whore

To be found at each and every place
To 'lend a helping hand' or to give free advice
In turn to take with the other hand
If there might be some advance, for a 'one-night-stand'

It seems that information-flow
Is similar to the way to milk an ox or a cow
A fast grip for the nipple will surly do
To grant for sufficient overflow

The professor, not sure about his manly potence
Begins to wane a rival for competence
And is easily tickled, with a winning smile
To fuck himself up to be a cock for a while

From the goose's back he steps in his wane
Like Zeus, descending from his heavenly throne
And still he might wane to be a god
When he's scratching for threatened worms in the mud

If someone has become professor in Germaning
He always knows and knew each and everything
There can be no limit anywhere for his competence
He succeeds god in his very own omnipotence

He becomes the lord of all Creation
And not only if he feels as hard-boiled-science representation
And though his unconscious reflexes are rather primitive and biological
He will find an argument to compensate his fall

There must have been some kind of proper reason
For his wane, fitting into every illusion's season
He might be only an average philosopher or mathematician
But that's sufficient for each and every competition (or illusion)

Since he is definitely a Scientist and Beamter and Professor
The one to esoterically abuse him can be not just a whore
And his impotent fury against his rival must be
Nothing but 'scientific necessity'

Stolz tritt der Hirsch auf die n„chtliche Lichtung
Und r”hrt aus dunklem Antrieb in jede Richtung
Denn ueberall lauern die Rivalen, die wagen
Ihm die heissen, zu 'pruefenden' Weibchen abzujagen

Diese rechnen schon fest mit dieser Art Scharm
Und halten den röhrenden Hirsch sich ihrerseits warm
Es gibt da keine Wahl, die alle, sie müssen
Und zwar desto mehr und blinder, je weniger sie davon wissen

But if you remind one of those that he might be sick
He will be sure that this is another rival's trick
And they feel very wise and very clever about
That they have auch diesen Trick durchschaut

For instance that I had programmed the seductive little whore
After I did check all about her 'esoterics' before
And then I delivered the automate up to him
Who might wane I was not able to program his machine

After '33 and the war this culture's soul
Was nothing but a burnt-out black-hole
And every idiot, killer and gangster
Could still turn to be 'deutscher Berufsbeamter'

And now they sit there, fat, violent and numb
The state has become the stupid's dump
And their compensation lies in bureaucracy
To render all who want to grow into insanity

Fifteen million refugees from the east we accepted past the war
Who came - being displaced - to dwell amongst our people over here
'The poor and homeless' took over all Institutions of Public Affairs
And rearmed 'US' to be the 'infant-ry' for their coming wars

Freedom, as they wanted us to have it understood
Was to be welcomed first to be our neighbourhood
And then to start with the gained riches back for revenge
Misusing us twice for their hidden interests and plans

Though they came as conquerors we were not aware
(They shared our culture and spoke the same vernacular
And their intrigue-clubs worked out a public ideology)
That they turned our country into their colony

When they had made sure to hold the strategic points for to make the decision
To persecute legally everybody not conform as a protagonist of communism
And being sure that they were on the right side so far
They began to reenter against us being kids, into warfare

Even the strategy was the same for success to grant
When Der Fuhrer had began warfare against Poland:
Hit somebody into the face and if he strikes back or not
His existence makes him responsible and that means to provocate !

Since over forty years our people are in use, and our resources
For their politics towards the east they plunder our man-power and purses
Controlling public affairs, institutions, media, schools, that means: everyone
In-forming in first case a hidden inner-German colonialist garrison

They are the ones to know very well the meaning of the insinuation
To proclaim for 'the working-immigrants' political and social integration
And for clear-to-be-seen-interest they propagate throughout the house:
'Aussiedler' are welcome, throw the 'asylants' and 'foreigners' raus !

'Aussiedler' in this sense is each and everyone from the east
Having fed a German-shepherd for three months at least
And who seems from his origin to be a guarantee
To maintain and support every-kind of reactionary 'Flüchtlings-policy'

To understand it: every policy making proper usage
Of our big-brother and allies and everything-else within reach
And behind the curtain of 'democracy', 'Europe', and 'open-market' the trash
Doesn't think of anything-else but the naked reason of making double-cash

They who have successfully claimed to be our teachers
Who did succeed to overtake the role of leaders and preachers
Who claim notwithstanding to take care of the Whole
Do constantly play a clever double-faced-role

I did not loose anything in the German or polish east
I did not gain anything here for being outbombed to the least
But indeed the rest of the nothings we owned, a waste
Were taken by 'reform' from us to feed those poor 'refugees'

I was informed by them not to be unfriendly or hostile
I was asked with a frown to be patient for another while
I was asked to accept them to be my teacher and leader
And to invite them to sit in the open chair of my brother and father

Now they hardly took seat when they began to expand, like a balloon
The stock for their black-market-activities once being my living-room
And to clear things up about the to-be-expected-kind of new-rule
They hit me from behind on the head when I went to or came home from school

And I dare to say: this is political experience from the start
To be hit upon the head by those friends and brothers to be so smart
To rely as kids-unguilty first to immediate violence
And later on turning to formal-communicative-competence

It didn't take me too long for this experience to be made
And I somehow could not manage to get in time out of bed
To be awake and aware and ready for school, and instead
I turned to stay a fool and finally I was all the way too late

Because, when I entered, still in time, as I thought they would agree
Although about six years late into a German University
They were already there and far ahead of my position
And everywhere they had already got the keys of the institution

Provided with the state's authority and power
They laughed down at me high from their ivory-tower
While I still dreamed of another state of Germany
And of its old Academy and function of University

Now, I was already experienced with modern world
I had worked my way through it, I hadn't to be told
But I had to be shown how they did manage to turn
Me to be captured to be the fool and their football again

At first I was taught the most fine psychological art
To begin again to learn senseless syllables from the start
But even though I had already practically succeeded in the case
(Being a rock-musician and paid good for it) I had to be a professor's ass

Now I wasn't payed for to learn the senseless thoughts and shit
Being made-up as 'theory' and 'höchstes deutsches Bildungsgut'
Instead I had become - from being a teenage-musician-star -
An example of what was hated most for long as The German Paria

Waning that I had reached the holy halls of thinking-tradition in the end
I had the first choke when I realized that I was kind rat, i. e. 'a student'
That is understood: of the kind of trash but only one
To be shot in the streets by any killer in a uniform

Who couldn't come home from his private war
To fight 'communists', at least in the west, so far
Who were after his job and real identity
He had furnished (again and still) with social authority

But instead of leaving the place immediately and at once
I tried to cling to what I thought to be the Bildungs-essentials
Weil diesen Quark halt irgendein deutscher Studienrat
In meinem Kopf als Müll zuvor schon hinterlassen hat

Und weil der verantwortlich solches bewirkt
Hat, hab' ich bestenfalls an meiner Empörung bemerkt
Daß die dann später unter dem Titel notorische 'moderne Welt'
Längst, und nicht nur mir, auch diesen 'Bildungsweg' verstellt

Hatte, while the professor, that is he, who's got the power and job
Went to exercise of theory and practice of the 'philosophy-as-Als-ob'
Maintaining the fiction that his jugglery, humbug and hoax
Could provide people - or me - with arms or aims for life's lonesome walks

They who were not ready to accept their own and our common fate
In the place where they had lived taught me about society and state
As reliable subjects they were quickly raised and honoured here
And because they spoke the native's vernacular especially useful they were

I did not even realize they were not natives but The Aliens
And since they had managed to get in charge of authority and competence
I really tried hard to get used to their apparently confused imagination
It took me years to realize I had arrived at a brain-washing-station

Actually there was nobody to be responsible with respect to the task
Actually instead everybody was wearing sort of a culture-mask
Actually there were the goats made up to be the gardeners
Actually there were the wolves put up as the sheep's teachers and partners

Now there was the time for a new mixture of the old coalition
Fastening usurped authority in University and teaching-tradition
Now they could go for a new kind of silent and unbloody selection
Being strongly supported and well provided against detection

Because they had been already on top of the positions
They were very well established to make propositions and decisions
And through teaching-authority and scientific-adaptation
They were able to invade their insanity into our imagination

Now, if you doubted their reason through some kind of inference
They wrote an article about The Unconscious and it's secret meanings
They listened thoroughly to your words and then explained you it's sense
And scientific analysis became identical with counter-transference

Und so wurde überhaupt alles eigentlich nur als 'Widerstand'
Und deshalb nur 'in der Deutung' und als 'pathologisch', 'anerkannt'
Als Feindschaft gegen Üblichkeit, Ordnung und Staat
So wie man das seit '33 in Deutschland am liebsten hat

Alles was sich da noch regte aus bürgerlichem Geist, gar erster Hand
War gleich gebrandmarkt als illegitim/irrationaler Widerstand
Und wer dann noch immer nicht ruhig gewesen ist
Der wurde gebrandmarkt - je nachdem - hier: als Kommunist

Wer dann immer noch hier und da einmal
Den Mund auftat, war schon ein notorischer Fall
Und hatte gleich den schwarzen Peter
Und einen Namen: als Wiederholungstäter

Was die 'Richter' dabei so alles wiederholt
Haben, wurde nicht eigens nochmal festgestellt
Und so soll es doch vermutlich für immer bleiben
Warum sollen wir die eigentlich nicht auch `mal vertreiben ?

Sie haben es sich längst verdient, und mehr
Wir brauchen die nicht, und die uns bald nicht mehr
Solche Art von Gästen sind zu Recht unbeliebt
Vielleicht, daß es ihnen wenigstens zu denken gibt ?

Why not does 'the Iwan' take them back from here
Don't they and doesn't he think they could be useful over there
Since they seem to be eager to make cash and with a good result
To repeat it once again on the other side, und zwar bald

Loaded with their gold they'll gonna start 'back home'
To take a good hold of 'their old possession' again
And again we will have finally payed the price
And they'll once more win the war, and that means at least: twice --

{The newest coup of Social-democracy
Is only their well-known 'science-and-education-policy'
With special touch to sex and age
They put it as a brand new design upon the stage

In depends on rewriting history
And to create a brand new kind of sociology
That's how they want to make you forget
What they - since twenty-one years - have said and did

But if you think they would be content
If you elected them because they lend you a hand
You will soon realize how it came to pass
That once again t h e y make out the 'overwhelming mass'

In sociology, philosophy and education
They rely without any hesitation
Once again, especially and most of all
Upon scientific-organizational overkill

For instance, if you are haunted by a memory
That prevents you from taking their politics too easy
Or if you're experienced with what they proclaim
Be sure that you will never get back home

For instance they are not able to recognize
That 'the family' is only as spiritual unity
Instead the 'progress' they try to put on stage
Separates all it's 'parts' by sex and age

No wonder then that they aim for glory
By appointment of opportunism without any memory
And though it may cause you to weep or laughter
It is not you now but your children that they are after

They intend to make education organizations
To be founded upon antagonism of the generations
And even if you want to get a job in philosophy
You must be female these days and less than forty

Wasn't SOKRATES, when he was killed
About seventy-five, and his life fulfilled ?
Aber das war kurz gesagt, nur so ein alter Opa
Wir sind um zwanzig, am Zug, WIR SIND EU(E)R-OPA !

Besides, if you dare for history and take a look
To kill a young rabbi or an old philosopher created once a book
But now they have succeeded the message to bring:
Kill whatever you like, it doesn't mean and create a thing

Okay, finally the refined strategy:
The background: the same old form and hierarchy
In between our ghost-writers, not male and not over forty
The one's we lead between eighteen and thirty

First we provide for enmity
Between the members of any so-called family
We split them up through sex and age
Then we step up upon the stage

We call for more and better payed personnel
Especially to send the aged to hell
When we got rid of that Klientel
We provide for enmity between male and female

And in the end we let run wild
Father and mother against their child
To complete the outraged scenery
We provide for reciprocity

And that is how it will come to pass
That 'w e' lead the 'overwhelming' mass
And with a network of wide spread researchery
We carry social control into every family

That's how we provide to have them deluded
They will not realize how they are persuaded
"Fasten seatbelts, we'll take off right now for the flight
The sun is rising ahead and the future'll be bright"

And to provide that everybody keeps sitting in it's place
We will permanently point out that there might be dangers
Schools and University will make the bed
For broadening streams of voters to be led

Straightway from social and and ecological insomnia
Right up into the global Utopia
'We', those vigilant few below forty
(That is the one's we pointed out

To write down what we want and to speak it out)
Will bring them ecological education and philosophy
And be sure that we will never cease
To bring mankind to final peace

(The only problem that will surly come:
Next year they might be already forty-one
And it can be a problem caused by change in a while
That it's not easy to change a female into a male

And, mother, that the time might come
To show whereat you've mislead your son
It might take twenty years to make appear the mess
Of some kind of participation in your social-learning-process

And the only chance indeed then might really be
That those mislead now are already over forty
I am not sure how you then will manage to do
To start the game over again and anew

But you'll surly find a way, and we will see
(You could try to rely upon your and their short memory)
But I am as sure and do not care if you agree
That you will need a few with a long-range-memory

I indeed and my memory will still be there
But if you do not provide for it now I do not have to care
And think of how horrible it could be
That I will then be over or about seventy

My kids will not only k n o w how I was betrayed
By your clever polito-scienti-rhetorics, since 'sixty-eight'
And I am sure that you will not have the power
To put their consciousness down or to take it over

For longer than your senseless foam
Will live this spirit and it's poem
And I am aware that you might be
The spearhead of ecological tyranny

And I will surly laugh the most
To see my own ideas powerful imposed
Compulsively from way far overhead
By twenty-aged and the one's by whom they're lead

Meanwhile you'll have to change - again - the fiction
To avoid unwanted and disturbing friction
Your (leaders') aim will once more be
To point sternly to eternity

You will not speak then of any 'age'
And paint the background of the stage
With pictures filled with masses mild
And every age, be it old or child

Then it will be the teacher's point
To make his lecture and to find
The artist's motives such to mend

So far for art and it's aesthetical theory
Next for your collegue, as for the science of history
Will work cooperatively together with philosophy
To reveal mankind's eternal destiny

"All mankind is but a Unity
Wandering on a march throughout history
Guided mainly by friendly females under forty
To work for social-democratic glory

Leading the young (they are The Globe
And, since 'we' have progressed, not merely Europe)
Onward, with (not only German) responsibility
Right into it's destiny, and that's eternity"

"Oh son, come home to mother's breast
So that she can smother you for your very best
And you will surly be bound for glory
If mother is the social-democracy"

But you have been seen, and it has not yet been said
How you tried to put us down since sixty-eight
And since I have escaped and I do know how it was
You'll be pointed out to be one of the servants of Herodes

Im Emslandlager sprach Herr Brandt
(Ich habe ihn wohl, aber ob er mich erkannt ?)
Vor einem Jahr, und er glaubte wohl das isses:
"Es gibt keine Gnade des schlechten Gedächtnisses" !

Ich bin da aber anderer Ansicht
Und sage es euch allen in's Gesicht
(Und das bis zum Ersatz meines dritten Gebisses):

By the way, I'm sure that East-German agencies
Did mark their personnel to appear as if they were poor refugees
Providing for an at least possible enemy
To seem to be of special political reliability

None of the one's who have left the east
Can earnestly be hostile, agents or even a 'communist'
And that is surly why they must prefer
Them especially in public service over here

And this is why you will never tell whether
They do not silently really work together
Making the surface appear to be as if it
Meant exactly the opposite

You want to make sure ? - but if you try
You are rendered to be be outcast, radical or a spy !
And if you still try to insist
You are not qualified to be a scientist

You will never be able to avoid
To be judged to be hysteric or even paranoid
And if you do not care at all and let it be
You make proof for lack of reliability

To confer about the problems at a meeting seems to be very easy
But then they cancel it and tell you to be very busy
And you shouldn't say that it could not be foreseen
Because it is you to want to meet a 'very important person'

There's no opportunity for to complain, all right
You know it is nothing but the 'Üblichkeit'
And to claim otherwise will prove you to be the slenderer
'Die Legitimationspflicht liegt - schließlich - beim Veränderer

So, call them up and they'll always refrain:
"Another time, call me up some time again"
There's no use to reason, it will only make you wane...
Your choice: to be The Patient or The Insane !

But there's no means to hinder the output of a continuous text
To continue to tell you simply what has happened next
Because whatever it was, is or might be
It altogether makes only History

Though it might be a mad story I do'nt mind a frown
To keep on going to write it down
And, dear reader, it must not be swollen up to fill books
To give you an insight into the interaction-style of the crooks

T h a t is how power is to be made
T h a t is how they provide for that it is world-wide outspread
T h a t is how they manage to maintain the global disease
Of those neccessary and unavoidable social hierarchies

That's how they make you to become deaf and numb
That's how they urn you to be stupid and dumb
You are but an ox or a cow attending a rodeo
And PILATUS keeps on reigning sine ira et studio

Kindly he bids you to step into the cage
Before he goes to take over your inheritage
And to provide for to be sure that you do not jump the fence
He proclaims it to be the birth-mark of your impotence

With a birds-eye's-view supreme to the cultural scenery
Your left-overs are succeed-up into his philosophy
And everything that will ever happen to thee
Is due to 'social change' and the fatalities of modernity

'MODERNITY' is everything that will surly provide
For all (not only 'scientific') advantage to be on his side
And 'accelerated change' will sincerely hasten to fill
All the ponds with waters for his interpretation-mill

Der Philosoph und Doktor sind
Die ärgsten Feinde für das Kind
Sie drehn es durch und für den Lohn
Sorgt schon der pure Erfolg der Projektion

Ricke-racke, ricke-racke
Geht die Mühle mit Geknacke
Solang' sich diese Mühle dreht
Gibt's Fortschritt, Wandel und also Modernität

In diesem Sinn, wie sich versteht -
Wie immer also die Geschichte geht:
Stets bleibst Du draußen und bleibst dumm
Zum Wohl von Bürokrat und Beamtentum

Leb' frisch asketisch, hüte Dich zu saufen
Dann müssen sie sich wieder Killer kaufen
Und das wahre Ende von dem Lied
Ist dann erst wieder ihr KZ

Darin sitzt Du dann ein, mein Bester
Aber nicht als Doktor, nur als Magister
Und das 'entbirgt' dann auch den Sinn der Tat
Der Vermeidung vom neuen akademischen Proletariat

D a s war der Sinn dieser Bildungspolitik
Und sorgt für Deinen 'Karriere-' und Lebensknick
Und zum Wohle von des Professors Ehre
Machst Du eine Insassenkarriere

Everything else the same, but the opposite
To the one die Herren Weizsäcker were begifted with
To be painted to make up as the Galionsfigur
For the proud West-German steamer called 'Demokratur'

But they are still helpful for the diagnosis:
It is just an average 'midlife-crisis'
"Cheer up my friend, and smile again"
(It's just that you were fucked-up and they have won)

If you meet them now there's no blood on their hands
It's the same thing with the world-wide heroin-bands:
White washed the science-gangs too do reenter
And invest for instance in Frankfurt city center

Be sure if you meet those cultivated and helpful men
They are hardly more than the avarage Pavian
But they definitely differ especially from those
In so far as they are far more dangerous

They stand for mankinds responsibility
With special respect to eternity
And if you do not daily prostrate to kiss their feet
They'll have you hit harder onto your face, back and head

Sind in öffentlichen Dingen penibel und sorgsam
Schulden dem Führer noch immer - nachträglichen ? - Gehorsam
Sind in der Pflicht alle Nachkommen zu eichen
Und gehen dafür auch schon mal über Leichen

They always plan in secrecy
The newest understanding of your 'reality'
And you'll always stay deaf and blind
They'll walk ahead and you behind

And even when there'll be the worst
They know, because they plan it, first
You're else the bear lead by his nose
Or the sheep kindly guided to the slaughter-house

Predigen asketische Lebensform
Und verdienen daran enorm
D e i n e Pflicht ist es zu darben
Damit i h r e Kinder es besser haben

Actually they still do live - undercover
As doctors, lawyers, therapists or philosopher
Actually this land's still sick and dirty
As long as they rule, born about nineteen-thirty

If you want to remind yourself of the facts
You dare to try to make communicative contacts
It wont take you more than a minute to recognize and see
They immediately poison you with their insanity

And since they continue to put you on
Talking about The Unconscious at the same time
Everything truly reappears again to be present
While they go on to tell you that it's only history to be 'meant'

They talk of 'Vergegenwärtigung' and stare at you
It reminds you of what they could be up for to do
And while you are caught in that prison and it makes you lame
They overround you just another time

It is associated with the same old game
They are not able to alter but must play over again
And that can do well if a proof must be
Of their personal and your memory's reliability

The explanations are still the same
The excuses are as ever, lame
Their expectations still that you are tame
Do you really still fit into that game ?

Didn't they explain, through your confusion
All about mankind's, and that's at least t h e i r constitution ?
And doesn't that make out the legacy
Of your final claim for reciprocity ?

Didn't they work hard to earn a storm
Turning you into a tortured worm ?
And are they not in charge to gain
The crop of their seed before or while they're dyin' ?

Can they be sure that you'll find it hard
To be anything else but a fearful coward ?
Do you still wane to have something to choose
Did they provide for something you could loose ?

There are things that cannot be talked of but done
There might be things that cannot be gained but lost or won
There are things nobody should try to provocate
If is is not to call for aid for committing suicide --

(To make sure - it has not yet been clearly said
And you've got to get the idea into your head:
There were three war-parties to win in the game
And not one did fit into a 'nation-frame'

But instead indeed it is easy to see
They met in o n e ground and culture: in Germany
Nationalism was not the reason but the means
The r e a s o n of politics was violence

Socialism, National-Socialism and Zionism
Met their Atonement through political Antagonism
They at least as ideological groups did win
In Europe's Modernization-game

And none of them did mind a frown
To recruit it's ally of it's own
So, shouldn't it be easy to get into your head:
The Living are The Winners and The Naked a r e The Dead)

(Now since those ideologies are only the surrogate
For the fatal result 'modernization' has had
It would be good to remember, for our future fate:
God is for the living and not (only) for the dead

So far it is w e all that must want to win
And the idea of human unity needs at least a name
So if you are not able to believe then take hold for the sense
Of the name of God with regard to human existence)

In the meantime interpretation was violently misused
They wanted to be sure that they were never accused
But, dear professor, to handle it like a Stalin-organ or a machine-gun
Must finally open ears and eyes to me and everyone

But be sure if you dare to speak about that this is reality
You will never be accepted in 'their own' University
As long as it is they who tell you what is all about Science
They'll be the masters and you at best one of the compulsory-clients

And if from the beginning you had spoken free
You wouldn't even have gained a worthless bachelor's degree
And that means: to speak frankly and not to hide a stack
Means in the same time unavoidably to give it back

As far as I am concerned I have entered and worked in University
For one purpose only, and that was the doctor's degree
And I am not so stupid to be fed with the delusion to imbue
Myself about the fact that they didn't let me come through

They wouldn't let me go and they wouldn't let me through
They wouldn't let me do anything else I would've been able to do
They locked me up in the hidden concentration-camp
Trying to convince me of myself to be stupid and dumb

My own mind was but a point in their calculation
They counted me in for to work for their interpretation
Of what I would have to be and to think of my life and me
And that should finally be Sociology, Psychology and Philosophy ?

They should be sure that there has been paid a terrible price
I at least did still follow my own course and advice
And since I was not regarded to be responsible at all
I didn't have to care what and who else did fall

And since I got aware of that they did want to enter into everyone
With the methods of espionage made up to be scientific interpretation
I did learn to hide behind any kind of mask or role
And to change roles quicker than they were able to follow

Besides there were the masses of an anomistic 'scene'
Acting - in bunches - as doubles of one of 'the spiritually leading men'
And they all were eager to destroy or wash your brains
Like their own was: with their master's newest sense -

But whatever they claimed for their intention to be
Only the faces changed in an identical scenery
And out of the gestures and voices of everyone
Echoed the tone of The Führer and his leading men

Out of their stock I was equipped with the heaviest cross
And then they laughed at me because I 'looked like' Jesus
But I do'nt have to argue whether it was role, disguise or imagination
When they academically discuss the problem of transsubstantiation

It's hardly worth mentioning, but indeed
To feel my pain and to see me bleed
They nailed me daily up on their cross
I bet that's why their precious symbol is

A tortured body terribly harmed
"Watch out, we're gonna nail you up
And let you drink a bitter cup
And don't tell us you were not informed"

That's what the signs cry from the walls
Out of each of their temples and holy halls
And if you're wise tell them that there is
Another highway to cultural success

I am sure and I swear that I never had
Three days to recover from the grave and the dead
There's nothing to make you more tired and weary
As constant daily resurrection and immortality

And that's why I finally do conclude
(I don't judge it to be either bad or good):
But I can swear it by their cross
Though I can not be a Christian be sure I am Jesus

To beware themselves they do constantly refrain:
"That is long gone and can never happen again"
It might confess that God Himself must mean:
"I will never walk among them once again"!

Their envy encouraged them to sacrifice
Two 'post-war-generations' for their violent vice
And still they deny any even far similarity
With what they point out to be 'communistic bestiality'

They are still the masters and still make the rules
For the wise men - themselves - for everyone and the fools
And the most mislead one is he or she
To be graduated or licensed - through their grace - to feel free

In the meantime they do not hesitate for once again
To try to seduce you twice with the most impudent interpretation
Though they are the same, except that they have grown faint
That they are `the younger generations' special friend`

It seems, their calculation must be
To shift by one generation with their adultery
And they earnestly must wane that there is no memory of their deed
How they hit their parents publicly upon their head

They count on, there can be no doubt indeed
That there must be persisting enmity, as in their head
And especially between children and adults
As the average outcome of education results

For instance, the uncles and aunts in big politics
Do rely upon the function of their rhetorical tricks
"Vote for me", cries each and everyone of their TV-spots
"I'm for the young", (and your parents were idiots !)

The last to say: nearly half my life long
I was told by the old one's: "you are far too young"!
And the second half I'm surly gonna be told
By the younger one's: "you are far too old"!

But, look a'here, that might be for you
A three years scientist's job, payed BAT-two
And, how full of symbolic meaning it could be:
The alma mater named after Johann Wolfgang Goethe

What do they want ? they're in need of success
For education in cultural and economic production process
With regard to social movement and access
Especially to the participatory learning process

The research - supposed and granted your capability
With it's center of gravity either in Asia
Or else Latin America or in black Africa
Should be of international cooperative interdisciplinarity

It must be somewhere far away, because it could not be
That we here needed more culture and interdisciplinarity
And especially more than the common random access
Of social memory and culture and education process

Besides your extraordinary scientific capability
This time you've got to speak Chinese and Suaheli
It must not be Greek and Latin and they don't ask you for your age
Okay, what else can you show me, turn another page

By the way, You where always of good use
And those 'losers' did not hesitate to abuse
Your lack of acquaintance with either servant or master
And so past-war-scenery turned to be a continuing disaster

They who had missed their final success at Stalingrad
Went right to the top of the charts of cold-war-hit-parade
Turned to be your allies nearly overnight
And roared out in triumph: #we were always right !#

As for the West-German inland-scenery
They put up again the old war machinery:
At the frontier an eastward-pointing army
And behind it the heavy-metal-industry

Gone West, the eastern landed-gentry
Together with the Ruhrgebiet-war-machinery
Agreed to live in political harmony
To rule forever in Western-Germany

Now this was good as long as it seemed to provide
A guarantee for to success to lead
Or if not that to be at least the best
To hold grip of continuous eastern interest

And since it did fit into the scenery
Of atomic-bombs and 'Abschreckungsstrategie'
It was completely innocent to control the disagreeing rest
By pointing them out to be radical or communist

Now do not think that there has been a change
As for the intention, the motives or the range
Or the kind of interest in The East
Of the leading parties of the German west

The change is one of tactics and strategy
With regard to chess of eastern policy
And one more time you might be the pawn
In another knavish European policy-game

For instance with regard to your 'modernization-plan'
You do not have the correct sensibility and differentiation
For the liberating development in the U. S. S. R.
("Those Americans are not able to play a game besides cold-war

Think of how disgusting, imperialistic and insensible
They are to plan to install another short-range-missile
In the end it is 'us' Germans as a whole
What they do want to hold down under control

But they are easy to stir, strong, stupid and tame
Just think of how we maneuvered them into our east-asia-game
N'est pas cela tres elegante comme nous nous retirions
Et la méme occasion par nous ils furent rendu a la fond" ?)

Since I do not suffer of nationalism
And I do not gain any profit of 'imperialism'
I am not sure if it all might be just a terrible waste
The final of the games of the kshatrya-caste... -

On the other hand I will never fall to the charms
Of the silly dream of a world without any arms
Though I hold for that it is a lovable idea
To be realized maybe yonder - but not here !

Besides you should be sure that I indeed do hold
To feel better to know that they a r e controlled
So: whatever your politic's real intention might be
It is very good that is does control at least Western-Germany -

If you wanted to live and still know who you are
To save at least a spot of yourself and not to drown in the nightmare
You were earnestly occupied with a mad play for your soul
While you swam, the crocodiles from below tried to pull you into the mud-hole

While the masters from above lay tons of interpretations upon your head
(Did you swim or drown, did you fail or succeed ?)
While silently behind the only exit's door
The killers waited for their Einsatz-hour

They had been in Paris, Tobruk, Stalingrad
Gained all his or her virtue, vice or Tugend
From Schulpforta, Lebensborn and Hitlerjugend
And now had turned to be liberal, social-(or)-christian-democrat

And how they were anxious not to be in any way accused
(You remember you listened quite puzzled and amused)
It was decades later that you lost your innocence
When you got aware about the long sermon's short sense

It was they who had felt guilty after all
That was the reason for their 'Themenwahl'
While you felt pity with the killer you should have been aware
That they wanted to drown you in their own nightmare

For more than a decade they succeed your life and time
While they heedlessly talked out of a scattered brain
Making you believe that it was you who had to learn
You did loose and loose, and they did only earn and gain

While you still did listen, from way up yonder
They lectured with regard to you about the Manna-wonder
Referring for the special symbolic sense therein
With regard to it's meaning after the painter Poussin

But with regard to real interaction, there was no wonder
There was only one sense to be heard from way down and up yonder
And though it claimed to be science, culture and philosophy
All it came-out-to-be teaching was naked biology

Once, when I tried one of them to explain the reason why, it's sense
He hit me right into my face for this kind of innocence
And I was taught about the presence of the spirit of fascism
Hiding opportunistic behind the curtain of rhetorical sophism

Another type to play interpretation-monopoly
Had specialized in aesthetical sensibility
Ever ready to catch a fly and to suck it's life and head
Like fat black spiders they sat in their social net

From the cold heights of violence they descended down here
And knew everything about Heine, Rilke, Celan and Baudelaire
And occupied the interpretation and knowledge of, and theory
Of ancient and modern tragedy and drama and it's history

If you did not agree submissively and did risk your lip
They mingled quickly with anything within reach, for instance woman's-lib
And as all your forefathers for at least a century before
You were made to be one more looser in just another war

They were ready to catch the wanderer passing through the place
In a net of projections thrown above his head, body and face
You can be sure there never has been something as dangerous
As the SS and their pupils turning to be teachers and philosophers

They really thought they could overcome my mind
Blindfolding me with a candy-bar instead, or to hide behind
The fact that I should live in life-long-prison
Painted with the coloured pictures of freedom's illusion

Finally I realized the meaning and revealed the sense
To be heard out of the roaring water-fall of endless sentences
And I ultimately learned that behind Maya's idolatry
The final sense is no sense but nothing but biology

Interpretation is the unseen means to kill
Interpretation will break your mind and will
Interpretation is a silent invader and poison
The poor refugee knocking to become your garrison

The day may come maybe in a little while
That I will be a 'displaced person' and in exile
It is nothing new but something we have and had:
Just the other necessary German State !

And since I retreated from being a scientist or politician
I am not in charge to follow some kind of standard-interpretation
And with regard to group-interest I do not have to feel sorry
When I insist to tell you only m y own true story

While you might think of everything in terms of the modification
To adapt and bend and shape it into some kind of generalization
Because they made you believe that only lack of individualization
Makes the facts wanted for scientific veri- or falsification

But the text is a function of an interaction-game:
They who make pressure I do not at all have to blame
Because the more violent they turn and the harder they come
The more productive is in the end what I was, will be and I am

Their part is to give any kind of im-pression to the tortured worm
And my part to turn it to be the verbal form
And so, whatever my antagonists' intention might be
To give it form of word and reflection is up to me

Since fifteen years I am captured in this hidden concentration-camp
And I have learned to concentrate instead of becoming deaf and numb
I have learned to give to experience sentence and word
To what they might have thought they could do unseen and unheard

There is another gap between the purpose or motivation, to be
The cause for an im-pression cut through double-contingency
And if the intention might be to make me at least deaf and blind
I can still make it a poem and a song for instance of this kind !

So whatever they wanted to teach to this unbesieged mind
It is still innocent for through any kind of hypnosis to find
The key for the judgment and the words for to provide
To turn the arrow's direction back to the point of it's start

[ And I can earnestly give you an essential hint
If you don't want them to make your mind to be an unpayed whore
Not to regard any idea or imagination of any kind
(Except for instance 2+2=4 and such) to belong to your personal score:

Anything you are not employed or payed for
Nothing you are not raised and honoured for
Most things that are regarded as eternal thruth
And everything that's gonna steal your old age and youth

Anything they can sell to you, except bread and water
No thing that doesn't lift you on the social-ladder
Be aware not to be the pawn in the game of another's advance
But be sure to be able to count and to make auspicious balance

Be sure to avoid to be an element in business-calculus for chance
Be sure that it is not they to make the music after which you dance
Be sure instead to beat the drums and to play the flute
Play their own game to turn them into - if they want you to be - the idiot ]

It is a simple fact like any other one is
That any 'native's' interests here must differ from theirs
As far as 'The East' has to be pointed out
But you are 'a radical' if you say that aloud

It is they who silently dominate
This so-called free country's future fate
And they at the same time do well provide
Through 'Science' and 'History' and 'Volksbildung' for to hide

The very fact that they do execute their best
To proclaim their hidden wishes to be common interest
While they keep on singing the melodies
To be nothing but poor and harmless refugees

(It surly has a good reason of it's own
At first to kill and waste over forty million
Then to occupy all of the annihilated institution
And as for the rest of the native population

To provide - to keep the wages down -
For sufficient foreign immigration
And though millions may suffer, and uncounted die
It is just to keep interest and profits high)

As for their part in population, expressed as percentage
In Public Service you'll surly find their over-representage
And as for their politics with regard to Königsberg, Danzig and Stettin
We merely serve them still truly to be their trampolin

In the late fifties they started to bring to uniform and job
All of the uneducated villains and it's fascistic mob
And now you can hear their shop-stewards explain of these
To be pure democratic consciousness in Public Service and police

The `Radicals' must be somewhere else because they have provided
Especially in the seventies, to have them all 'execluded'
There's no opportunity, it seems, and never ever was
To go now for an application of the 'Radikalenerlaß'

When I came to be a student they hit me into my head
And I was persecuted for anything I thought and wrote and said
Ich war kaum aufgewacht, da war ich sozial schon wieder tot
Der Rest von mir bekam dann später noch ein Berufsverbot

When I sat in the library and somehow tried to concentrate
I was haunted by the terror of which I heard and read
Fearing to be recognized to be the problem and they might want to get rid of it
By shooting me a pistol-bullet right into my head

Since besides the international relations with regard to the U. S. S. R.
Are growing - isn't it wonderful ? - daily better and better
Economic return to be expected surely's gonna be the coming hit
And public servants will be calm if they get their share of the profit

In turn they will have to be taught and explained
That there is a price to pay for the raising wages gained
If they do not agree that others make cash instead
There's gotta be someone to hit at least a good deal upon their head

And that will surly provide for that the radicals will be
Outside of the institutions of public-service-scenery
It serves too for sufficient public discriminations
Not to mix up the pictures inside and outside democratic institutions

They who are locked out are the enemies and the evil
It's the uniform to design the difference of the angel and the devil
And for raising wages on one side and on the other rising rage
A little bit of civil war scenery must be put on public stage

For success there is always a price to pay
If you want to be on top or participate you've got to choose your way
You'll have to become Fuhrer or at least his dog to keep your chance
And only one choice is excluded: if it should be peace or violence

Because if you do resist long enough to play in this kind of game
You will be calculated to be harmless, stupid and tame
In the end - if you want to live - you're taught step by step or all at once
That there's no alternative but to turn to violence

They'll take everything from you until you find that it must
Be that your 'violence' is simply that you exist
My advice is that you get aware before all the prices are payed
For your peaceful solitude, it might be too late

Be sure that there is a war going on against you
Be sure that they do not accidentally aim or fire at you
Be sure that it is useless to wave with a white flag
As long as you still have but a penny in your bag

Now this has to be brought to a definitive end
If those people do want to stay in this land
Nearly twenty million undercovers listen to my advice
If you do not once more want to become refugees

If you want to grow beyond their size
Despite that you want your children to rise
You will have - and we should collaborate
Without doubt and grace - to get rid of it !

The killer has become professor
The killer has become the judge
Become their assessor or successor
Be not in doubt: you won't do much !

He and his gang had you persecuted
He taught you how you were excluded
He killed a good lot of your generation
And not only by 'scientific interpretation'

They split the roles, the one to beat
The other just to interpret
Their relationship seemed to be none
But as Berufsbeamte they are still one

They succeed your life and brought you drugs
Your naked emptieness to be covered with rags
And three parties claimed to be your killer:
Be it policeman, therapist or dealer

Your were violently busted out
Then they blamed you to be a 'drop-out'
You went to the pipe-line, fillin' in time
Came back to be asked: "Where have you been"?

You lost yourself and lived in fear
Reality became your own nightmare
No path to go to return to yourself
And when you awoke the clock strikes twelve

Because none of us knew where we should be going
We took our hands not to feel alone
But though we were handsome, strong and brave
Too many were lost in a tricky cave

Out of the dark we heard voices calling
From everywhere: "come over here, darling"
But anytime we arrived at the place from where
It seemed to have come, nobody was there

Ariadne, as we finally realized
Could not guide, because she herself was lost
Behind every corner lurked the horror
Of a blood-shot-eyed and terrible minotaur

Though none of us did appreciate the feature
His face changed to be the one of a teacher
And then the cracking image turned to be again
A blood-covered monster fed with men

Did we, through flashing lightning, realize
Stuffed open graves, distorted rotting bodies
Or were it pictures full of peace
With grazing cows and shady oak-trees ?

We learned a song where a flying bird
With good forbodings for the kids appeared
But when silver-birds really filled the sky
We were hastily led or carried away

Was it long before or was it much later
That nurse-maids and mother seemed to feel better
When they looked at the sky and saw or heard
The mighty humming silver-bird ?

Even today I have not got wise
It's always that they seemed to feel otherwise
And even teachers then, in school
Always were the wise, and I the fool

I am sure they always tried to hide
Something, and they are still paranoid
First they are friendly, and then again
A dangerous enemy they appear to wane

Now this is their and not my state
They are the one's to take it out in hate
And since it is organized insanity
They insist it to be called a 'democracy'

I'm only able to make out the sense
Of the meaning of a word by experience
And whatever they may talk to me
It is experience that makes my reality

And whatever might be interpreted
And voluminously elaborated
Beyond all those word appears their spirit
And their consensus makes it's truth and summit

He's the spirit of the ruling class
Since this is Democracy - even of the 'overwhelming' mass
He is the spirit of success
The Sieger of mankind's and history's chess

He has killed your father, raped your wife
Killed your brother, took his life
Abused you and even your sister before
And turned your mother into a whore

He washed your brain and told you lies
He insisted you to listen to his advice
He turned you upside-down before you knew
There is nothing to be decided: The Idiot is you !

Be sure that he will not give in
Be sure, that he will always try again
He will not retire, because he is not able to see
His horrible mental insanity

He will try to claim to be your teacher
He occupied the position of the preacher
He holds for justice, health and psychology
And teaches you history, theology and philosophy

He holds positions everywhere
There's nothing he does not take care for
And while the generations change
He himself wants to stay the same

He says that it's the only guarantee
For necessary provision of continuity
For without doubt, he says, that this
Is precondition for 'culture' and 'progress'

Culture and Progress to design the name
Of a state of affairs to stay mainly the same:
You accept to stay with your Insomnia
And he remains with his Paranoia

And especially his self-made experience
Makes the proof to culture's and progress's sense
But he'll always be patient, polite and helpful
To make his mind's state and you to be ratio-null

And he is not in lack of a philosophy
To let you run one round through psychiatry
Once appointed there is no problem to see
That you are the pupil and the teacher is he

For to sign he has a golden pen
Into his marble-halls you will never step in
He can buy each and every thing
His butler is (not You, but) a ruling king

He has the whole world "rearranged"
And now he tells you: "It has quickly changed"!
Meanwhile he starts to turn western industrialism
Into the 'new-wave' of Chinese feudalism

In the meantime you are conditionized
To stare at the chance for the world to be atomisized
While you are waning for your job or environment-pollution
They start another world-wide social revolution

Wasn't `permanent revolution' what you were blamed for
Because you had talked about it and because it knocked at your door
Wasn't it, that it were they to make the pace
By slamming your own door into your very face ?

They who are the same as ever
Indeed at least have become very clever
For the urge of 'permanent change' it is you who is to blame
And this way indeed everything will stay the same:

You'll stay down there and they'll stay way-up high
And 'permanent c h a n g e' (!) will go their way
And should you want to participate for your own
They wane that you want to turn everything upside-down

But that is what they did, and if you insist
That the state of social order should be what it must
You are suspected to want to make a 'revolution'
And you are sentenced to prison or outsider's isolation

Although everything changes,nothing must change
Except anything beyond your decision's own range
And indeed, even through permanent revolution
There is nothing beyond the means - not man ! - in evolution

Everything changes, everything is still as ever
The violent rule, the wise will rule never
And should you ever want to jump the fence
You must turn to violence - and then that's COINCIDENCE !

You better stay where you are kid, and mind not a frown
All you could at best do is turning things upside-down
W e #have# tried it, and you should from the example, see
That all it causes - as usual - is endless enmity...

But i f you tried, at your risk - and you finally would succeed
(And if you are not - as the result - simply gone and dead)
You didn't change anything but being instead up-upon
And - everything else so far unchanged - the others are down !

Everything changes, nothing will ever change
Be it within or without your decision's range
It might sound odd and desperate and strange
Everything seems to change, but nothing does change ! -

Say where have you gone, you daughters and sons
Of all the upright and impressing US-Americans
To live next to my door and who are still on my mind
Did you all perish, die, forget it or just resign ?

There never was a decision so easy to be made
Wether it should be your or even only my neighbor's side
And I did not need anything like 'Theory of Truth through Consense'
It was far beyond Persuasion or Decision: Coincidence !

It is impossible that so much of you should be in my head
And you own not even the slightest impression to be remembered
Why do you all remain in silence, has none of you come through
To be powerful enough to work on our experience to come true ?

Even my elder sister has vanished among millions two-hundred
Both of them nearly quicker divorced than they were married
Did you all reach to the sky (thanks Leo) just to surrender
Only contributing more Jewish, black or red-haired outcasts to my gender ?

Not to be misunderstood: I do not complain -
Instead asking myself if you accept to live in vain ? -
While I have listened to you, maybe sometimes as your 'fan'
For thirty years or more and not only on Radio-AFN

I always tried to hold the grip for good
And not to loose you as my mental neighborhood
Should'nt we be able to stir the ship of our own
And not to withdraw at our common enemies frown ?

It can't be true that you all do have given up
And let a bunch of ignorants stir the ship
Come on, you too must be grown-ups at last
Let's head for the captain's and officer's cabins, fast

I certainly do imagine where you are
It is nothing to be spoken out right here
But since you are the children of the former crew
The turn at last must be, if not for me, then for you to rule

I spent more than thirty years to meditate on the information
I thought for years again about my contribution
About how finally to come through and to communicate
That I'm grateful about your parents getting rid of that shit

And now you are gone, it seems that you have already died
I am afraid it is too late since we were so much afraid
Of each other and did try to compensate lack of patience
By enforcing ourself to alienate from experience's evidence

Of finding ourselves in one playground and community
Not being bothered by the adult people's enmity
Should it really turn out to slam the door of the trap
Knocking us mentally down instead of raising us up ?

I did long be angry about that you didn't have the nerve
To go on and finish it: you didn't hang enough !
The seed you left again 'a la mode' has spread
Wipe them out and do not hesitate

I am ready to be the observer of the scenery
And to guide the direction and distance of your artillery
And when finally there won't be any sign to be communicated
You at least could be sure that you had thoroughly hit

It seems that you could not be consequent
At those points where your best inheritage is meant
And in turn you showed the world the face
Of Giant Hamlet stumbling numb over peasant's acres...

I did study most of the signs and notes to be left
By the slandered, and later slain and bereft
And I hardly can express the experience of light
When the evidences' shock turned my mind downward-upside

Still I can hear everybody even in the nearest neighborhood
Say: this 'abyss of culture' and 'the jews' cannot be understood
That not empathy nor kinship nor reason nor strive
Is able into that black-hole to dive...

And then to come back, to bring it to the point
Of no return to collective consense, joint
To steadfast conviction that only the tone
Makes the music of Fuhrer's rhetorics long gone

As you, yet coming back, can clearly see:
They swear upon the scientific evidence of phenomenology
Not remembering that the one to develop it to be true
Was still one of the slain and bereft and another 'Jew'

Four races and three religions world-wide outspread
Are meddling in my family and I have been practically taught -
Four nationalities and five languages meeting you can see
And I should think about the problem of hostility !

Now to lead with regard to such complex circumstance
Does evidently explain the necessity of long-range plans
To be careful about the broadcasting and the mediation
Not to sow a breeze and earn a hurricane or a cyclone

But to distribute meaning anew might not be sufficient
Because hunger's and deprivation's causes are evident
Things chance, and it would be good to distribute
Income and work to the deprived, and speech to the mute

Give light to the blind and dignity to the bereft
Aid to the lame and for the helpless even a gift
Knowledge to the people and for the learning books
And The Law for the evil and - 'The Bomb' - for the crooks !

'The Law' ist not to be regarded as being completely opposite
To the loving son mirroring The dethroned Creator-God
And but without sense there can no reason be made out
That a competition-game between them could really be played

One of those remembered of from David, Goliath and Shaul
Or should it be Jesus and Stephanus against Peter and Paul ?
Who's successors claim the inheritage of a Second-Hand-Creation
Trough Father's suppression and even assassination ?

Peace is not the opposite of manliness and vigour
In turn it shan't be won by The Fuhrer or The Sieger
And if you want to compare mankind with the tennis-player
It would be rather to keep the ball in the field and in the air...

None of the technicians would ever regard it to be the same
To built a communication-machine with a competition-design
Where the results could be only made or had
If one information fights the other to dead

But as soon as it is some kind of 'social' organization
There is nothing else but lethal competition
And organization makes the frame and means for junction
To destroy one unit through the others function

I am sure there's gonna be a terrible selection
To render The Idea Of Mankind to be an idiotic fiction
And you can do nothing within the biological race
But to loose and die - or to make the pace

Imagine to build up an artificial perceptron
Consisting of a group of locals and a head-demon
Each one at the frontier collecting it's information
Delivering it trough to make up a systematic recollection

Which, perceived and weighted by the central demon's head
Provides the system's basis for decision to be made
Every information marked with a sign upon
To sincerely identify it's origin

One end to be called the limbs and an eye's retina
In between the Central Processing Unit of a Computer
And the other end being head and brains
Of something to be called The Central Intelligence

And eyes and stations for local work
To be distributed all around a world
Connected with a distant decision-frame
To contribute to a global design

Imagine it even to be only a machine
Construed and maintained by human being
If it would be granted to be able to save them all
Whether to realize it there could be no doubt at all !

There is indeed one problem of Computer Re-Creations:
Provided you can make sure for correct informations
You still cannot automatically assert about it's vital weight
Because: "There can be no sight without insight" !

As far as we are up here upon the surface of this globe
We ourselves might be nearly all reason for man's despair or hope
And without importance of colour, culture, language or nation
Our common task should be to maintain contiuous Re-Creation

And it would not to the least diminish our merit
If God had begifted us with what He already had created
To make a survey of our condition, mandate and means
And continue, in His intention, Her and Our Re-Creations

To prevent you from taking the common-sense association
As being somebody's thoughtfully made-up justification:
That is not to be committed to dreamer's fancies for harmony
If you will not learn you will be taught, by necessity !

Wandering about your dream's and your vanity's fair
With a flash I am looking through you down to your 'hardware'
And it is experience and concept that convinces me of
That beyond your hard- and soft-ware you are rather a-morph

With special regard to computer-world's neo-mythy
Some of the claims for scientifical approaches are vanity
And from experience of my own I'm convinced - for instance - of
That The Great Dictator and & Co. could be working for Nixdorf

They seem to be to the utmost equipped with all kinds of knowledge
But if you know and you are able to take a look over the fence and hedge
You'll find easily that even this claim is pretention and vanity
They do not even know how to spell 'eromai' or 'tithemi'

With regard to 'artificial intelligence' and 'sentence-generation'
If you get too close to them you are informed with the special sensation
That their intelligent programs will only be interested in
How much you are able to spent and how much you gain

The clever machine will ask you if you rather would be found
To be in possession of one or two months' salaries' amount
And the ultimate interest in your existence will be unfold
When need for or possession of a Sparbuch is what you are asked or told

Now the program is rather independent of any kind of meaning
Serving the parrots as well as the greedy's dreaming
And 'strategy' and 'tactics' are the mainly-used terms
To trace your unconscious motives down to your life's germs

The name of the program is 'Nuggets', you are told
What else should they go down for but your own claims' gold
And the myths of Science and Research and Technology
As the means to get there they turn to be tactics and strategy

Communication, in this sense, does have but only one aim
To replace you as the 'partner' from your own possessions' claim
To get there they claim to have learned all about Chomsky and Whorf
Andre heading for the 'user-surface' to appear to be 'trans-morph'

Beyond strategy and tactic's name, and the formal code
They appear to install a 'surface' in the 'user-mode'
And the 'trace-function' of the 'sentence-generation-process'
Is only to grow fat and bigger through financial-success

In-between this kind of strategic calculation of business-chess
You will be hardly more than the stepping-stone to success
You are wanted !, indeed, for making increasing cash !
But beyond 'the user', if you want to participate, you're just a trash

Now go ahead and buy this kind of commodity and shit
As the source for the parrot's meaning-generation-outfit
In the meantime I go on to use my very own brain
To proove 'artificial-intelligence' being still a dream insane

As far as you will not be able to reach
Beyond the brain of this artificial intelligence's speech
And beyond it's capability for meaning-creation
You will not be ahead but just bound to arrive at a lost station

You were lead around in a business waste and into sorta black-holes
And the clever strategy is to uproot and misplace the sign-poles
By a desert-bandits' clever tactic's suggestion
To provide for your thoroughly managed - digestion !

So - if you try to start now to break into social sciences
Making it another playground for your clever business
Be sure to meet me on my very own ground
And that you will be surly to misery bound

There are concepts you will be never able to tell
And your programmer and your strategy or tactics 'll fail
But remember that I did offer you to read an open hand
Before your kingdom will be vanished into the sand

This is no spirit of your own kind
And to break into it's very own realm
Might bring you quickly to the point
To shrink to read your own hand's palm

You might try and fall back to the Education-system
But to recruit the needs you're in it will be in vain
It was you all to try to destroy and to vaporize
Each and every mushroom there to try to grow in size

For more than twenty years it was your Paranoia
To try to control down to death all of spirit and idea
And you were very well accompanied by it's personnel at hand
To hold down for it's own sake all spiritual development

Indeed, you almost, but only nearly, overcame
To sentence the spirit of communication to go insane
But the harder they come and the higher they rise
The deeper they fall and finally shrink in size

Indeed, at least I know it is far too late
And I don't really like to be reminded of all the dreams I once had
Because they haunt me with the idea if it could be
That I live within a nightmare of insanity

It turns true relations upside-down
Most of my life I was just a clown
Clinging to memories of love and aid
For my dead brother and maybe my nurse-maid

But I am but another superfluous groom
Of eight billion fruits just another mushroom
Worthless, as I can see dayin-dayout
Lord, take me home and wipe me out

That is, the one that cannot be longer used
That is, the one who has long since been exhausted
Having learned everything correct and bought all the books
Of the leading politics- education- and humanity-crooks

Those that were successfully prevented to beware
Themselves to make any attempt for social career
Those that willingly and freely disposed themselves
To be the sheep to feed the social- and culture-wolves

Those that only eat and cannot be of any use
The starving millions in the 'developing' countries
Those uncounted to demonstrate the most
The similarity of mankind with it's waste

The old, the sick, the lame and the blind
And any other shit of an akin kind
Take all those who just lay and stand in the way
And let only the strongest winners stay

Provide for a profound selection
Help mankind re-up now for a new erection
If you want the individual's worth again to rise
To reduce them sternly will be the price

You don't mean, that the minority of the vigilant
Should mainly work for the blind and numb
Or that the diligent labour, strive and think
Only for the lazy to copulate, to eat and drink

That progress will only unfold it's charm
To turn this world into an overcrowded chicken-farm
A nightmare of an exploding population
As result of permanent mass-copulation

Being the begin and only end
Of consummation-advertisement
Without any 'ratio' or consciousness
But rising advantage in business

Go on founding business upon persuation and violence
If there is artificial intelligence, it will finally jump the fence
And the bereft and held-down will at the end make the pace
And they will have become able to win in through your strategies to trace

They who have learned from your tactics of success
Will be selected by a random-evolution-process
And however you might try to control the processes' frame
You can never tell who will finally win the game

To sell efficiently means at once for to provide
Growing average intelligence of people world-wide
And what-else should be even artificial intelligence
But realizing and providing for increasing independence ?

As far as evolution of all mankind is concerned
All intelligence is artificially sowed out and earned
And as for modern technology and it's business-strategy
It will in a short-range time-to-come surly be an epidemy

As far as you are providing for it as for your own success
It's effect will be contrary to the game of chess
The more your success will increase through your own strategy
The more it's results will be increasing independency

So, when you finally did maneuver the king to the place you like
And the nearer you come to your possibility for to strike
And the closer you get to your final success
The surer you will loose this kind of chess

You wouldn't really try to realize at once
To sell to people machinery and artificial intelligence
And through the same means to hold them down to be addicts
Of your clever international salary- and production-politics ?

Go ahead and try, it might be an experiment
I will accompany you in case of an accident
And after your own rules - there is nothing new to be needed
You will succeed, or your bodies provide for the wolves to be feeded

Your only chance for to win the game is, honey
To take a fast grip for the cash and for the money
And to be ahead of the wolves and their greedy teeth -
To be caught in sleep or leisure will make you bleed

But another chance to win is to provide for to be
Within the process and it's inner meaning or 'morality'
And to cling to the chance and to trust in it's basical sense
To sell, to sow and to spread all kinds of intelligence

If you'll stay upon that track, if you cling to it's sense
There will be no harm to be expected from accelerating intelligence
And neither your efforts will have been in vain
Nor will you have to be anxious to be finally slain

Nobody will overcome His or Her Creation
By arbitrary short-range-interested recombination
There will be the day the bill is finally presented
And all problems of Second-Hand-Creators will be ended

Imagine to be a crowd or a troop of hunting beast
And Nature just the deer to being slain, eaten and digested
You will finally die of your surrounding's pollution
Drowning in your own shit and starve of indigestion

Or maybe a bunch of virus to be you'd rather like to imagine
A louse or mite crowding the surface of a huge organism
Intelligently and smart maintaining your own mass-reproduction
By attacking and destroying it's skin or immune-system ?

And when you busily reached your Final Goal
And there is no further Basis being destroyable
And you've eaten up your ship and covered everything with shit
Your host will give-up live and you'll be rotten in the mud

But if it is a chicken-farm, and overcrowded
Then a slaughter-house is what-for must be provided
To be the temple and the final station
For mankind's ultimate emancipation

It needs a butcher, not a shepherd
It needs less living and more dead
And we maybe can only be released
If we agree that God appears to be double-faced

Go on and proclaim that about 'Nature's Resurrection'
To dream is a 'typical delusion of Romantic (or worse) Re-Action'
While you are convinced that sober, calm or dreary Pragmatism
Will preserve the future if only of Scientific Industrialism

Nature, whatever your Master-Minds will claim
Is A System-In-Itself, playing it's very own game
And your tiny game after your rules therein-between
Can either insist to destroy itself or else fit in

As far as Nature is reality
There's nothing like the idea of harmony
And every idea of man and every -ism
Nothing but an ephemeral product of an organism

To reproduce to overcrowd a haunted scene
With interacting energies of a wishing-machine
Moved blindly by sex, hunger, greed and violence
Without any other further reason or sense

And one calamity the coming generations - if they are - will have
Might be that responsibility for their problems will be gone into it's grave
But at second sight it seems to be as right
That it is not dead at all: there's not yet been conceit !

But, speaking of sense or responsibility
It's an illusion that it ever was, is or will be
And whatever seems to have looked like it
Was just another disguise for organical greed

I am sure that there is a flashing evidence
That all of mankind's meaning and sense
Is founded in the world's and our own existence
And they are the answers for all our questions

And that means there's no reason for doubt or despair
To keep on going to split every hair into four or more
To shrink into regression clinging to an amulett
And play only one role in one play and to stay to be Hamlet

Now, aw, come on, cheer up and be positive
Your own conscience is what makes you depressive
But there are new generations and you'll soon be gone
Don't spoil their future with your nightmare, they are young

I do remember a children's past-war tale
It is the story of a girls-twin undertaking to heal
The broken bonds between enmity-struck adults
With - for such tales typical - successful results

They meet during vacation, and accidentally
And, being alike, recognize who and what they must be
By changing role, they search the other's home
Acquainted with the other parents' part they do become

The play develops complexity, as it should be
They cling to their wishes, through parents' reality
And since it is a children's tale - as you can see
In the end they live together in harmony

Now this is nothing to be taken seriously
It cannot - or can it ? - be transfered to foreign policy
And especially not to children who in future and past
In despair, could drown all of mankind in a 'Holocaust'...

We could, as long as we are still alive
For instance, in The Moon, put down an epitaph
Upon a tomb for mankind, and as an epitome:
"We were all lost children, a long way from home

All our days we lived in horror and in fear
And because of that we promoted hell over there..." -
And let a sign-post point out to the spot at the horizon
Where a remote new-earth periodically is arising

And when they can be sure that there's nothing left alive
The Silent Alien Intelligence for a visit may fly by
To dwell for a while by our grave, to weep long, and to murmur
And departing forever again, leaving its sword and golden armour...

But in the meantime why don't you let your mind imbue
Into the idea that it is silently watching and listening to you
With patience, compassion, curiosity and care


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