.Nicht hell nicht dunkel... Kein Fünkchen Reiz kein Widerhall
Von AuÃen keine Hülle und von Innen wände kalt wie Stahl
Die Schlinge schneidet qualvolle Striemen am Halse in purpurnem Rot
Die Menschen da drauÃen ahnen nichts von des Gefangenen Not
Schlagen kratzen betteln lü.
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