| Melchior:
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| Where I go, when i go there,
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| No more memory anymore —
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| Only men on distant ships,
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| The women with them, swimming with them, to shore…
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| Moritz:
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| Where I go, when I go there,
|
| No more whispering anymore —
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| Only hymns upon your lips;
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| A mystic wisdom, rising with them, to shore…
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| Ernst:
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| Touch me — just like that.
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| And that — oh, yeah — now, that’s heaven.
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| Now, that I like.
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| God that’s so nice.
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| Now lower down, where the figs lie…
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| Moritz: (Spoken)
|
| Still, you must admit, with the two anatomies, it truly is daunting.
|
| I mean how everything might.
|
| Melchior: (Spoken)
|
| Measure up?
|
| Moritz: (Spoken)
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| Not that I’m saying I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t want to not… would ever not want
|
| to…
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| Melchior: (Spoken)
|
| Moritz?
|
| Moritz: (Spoken)
|
| I have to go.
|
| Melchior: (Spoken)
|
| Moritz, wait.
|
| Otto:
|
| Where I go when I go there,
|
| No more shadows anymore —
|
| Only men with golden fins;
|
| The rythm in them, rocking with them, to shore…
|
| Georg:
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| Where I go when I go there,
|
| no more weeping anymore.
|
| Only in and out your lips;
|
| the broken wishes, washing with them, to shore.
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| All:
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| Touch me — all silent.
|
| Tell me — please — all is forgiven.
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| Consume my wine.
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| Consume my mind.
|
| I’ll tell you how, how the winds sigh…
|
| Touch me — just try it.
|
| Now there — that’s it — God — that’s heaven.
|
| Touch me.
|
| I’ll love your light.
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| I’ll love you right…
|
| We’ll wander down, where the sins lie…
|
| Touch me — just like that.
|
| Now lower down, where the sins lie…
|
| Love me — just for bit…
|
| We’ll wander down, where the winds sigh…
|
| Where the winds sigh…
|
| Where the winds sigh… |