There is a landscape in my head I sometimes travel But this is strictly after dark Beyond the barricades and trenches There stands the factory Hand me the costum of the sad acrobat And he says Son, this is the bread I break for you But do not touch it And he says Son, this is the wine I pour for you But do not drink it Dein aschenes haar, sulamith And he says Son, this is the bread I break for you Son, this is the wine I pour for you But do not drink it, don't drink at all There is a stranger on the shore I sometimes travel But this is strictly in my dreams He feeds the seagulls in the winds with ashes And as he speaks he's got my father's voice And he says Son, here is some bread I broke for you Son, here is some wine Those were the days, my friend Dein aschenes haar, sulamith Der tod ist ein meister aus deutschland