What a pity,
I'm not a bird!
My little wings can help me not.
No fly, no way, no dream across —
A hole
is
our Universe!
You think, your start was day of th' birth,
But life itself 's a little worse.
And by the way it ends in death.
A pleasant-sicky-breaking stress
We've got..
Oh, Lord! OH LORD!
My problem is so dready hot —
I wanna fly, but I can not.
So what for do exist our sort —
We're Humans! MaNkInD!
Thninking beasts,
Who even can not fit the stream
Of Time and Place.
We are dispersed.
And we don't know, what was the first —
The egg? The chicken? Scarambled stuff?..
It matters nothing anyway.
I wanna right now fly away.
But little wings can help me not.
Oh, Lord! OH LORD! Oh lordy lord!
It's really such an epoch task —
To make the man think what it must.