.Drauïen weht der Wind
Ich denk an Onkel Albert und den
Kleinen weiïen Kahn.
Mitten in der Stedt
Da trôumte er von Abenteuern
Die er niemals sah.
Immer zum Geburtstagsfeiern
Kamen wir um anzuheuern
Auf sein Boot.
Da gab es tee mit rum.
Seine blaue.
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