.Der Himmel beginnt sich fein zu streifen
Minuten aus der Ewigkeit
Schatten wie Gitarrensaiten
Die Gefangenes befreien
Wir sitzen auf alten Steinen
Trinken Wein, nichts zu bereuen
Klettern über Zäune
Schreien, tanzen. Freude
Kein Gefühl von Müdigkeit
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