The city's spread beneath my feet, but not the one that I was after while I've been pounding out this beat the length of the Kudamm. Street legends on the tourist map, a fading script in Gothic, out in the studio they're rehearsing in drag for a lark. Come on, let's get lost in the dark. Tale another step, another move, another pace, what isn't written in the man*script is a note to play with grace and if I exit from this story in a way I might retrace it will have fallen through the cracks when I come back in any case another time's another place. The city's spread beneath my feet from the top of the Mercedes tower and I can see the darkness closing in hour by hour. But I can't take another step, no filling in, no cut and paste, a bankrupt process for the memory, this terrain is laid to waste. No, nothing's written in the history books that doesn't leave a nasty taste; so should I start to tell the story will you put me in my place? 'Cause it'll all be crash and burn when I return...in any case another time's another place. Just when did this get broken? I don't know where to begin - I got a Ubahn ticket and a Flohmarkt token.... I'm in trouble in the rubble of Berlin The light is getting dimmer, the walls of history close in. In Babelsberg they're hunting for a different Stimmung that predates the war. That was before, that was before, that was a different Berlin, that was another Berlin, that was before in Berlin.