Berlin Paroles

And he felt the rolling fever hands of light upon him
Felt the beady eyes of the night upon his back
And everything he said turned into something else
Everything he said turned into something else

And he said, "What kind of beast am I?"
And he said, "Who brings the tablets down this mountain?"
And he said, "Is this where I live?"
And he said, "Ah, sometimes I feel so full."

And a voice answered saying,
"You are an aerial hung up to the Divine,
You are a beach for the waves of the world to crash on,
You are the spilt wine...
You are the spilt wine at the table of the gods."

And through the wet streets of the city
Washed bloody with the warfare of the ghosts
There is a shining something
There is a shining something I will be a run of sparks around the coils of this labyrinth
I am the roar of the bees in summer
I am a winged victory
And this is my epiphany

I am a winged victory
This is my epiphany

I am a winged victory
And this is my epiphany."