"He stood for a while. Two hundred thousand marks, he thought. It was worth at least that, if Not more. He had paid five thousand for that. In 1933 it had belonged to the Jew, Max Blank. He had demanded a hundred thousand for it and had made a fuss and complained that he was losing enough on it as it was, and wouldn't let it go for less"
makes me mad overseers, aren't you dead?
You burn, turn into ash Ash that squeek on you teeth All those long nine years All those names you've seen on the list All those sparks that painfully ceased You fear them, do you? They went out up the chimney through you
Any of you kept your will? Heaven help me Knocked up to cry see hope fades in your eyes
"On the dance round the four men were still hanging on the crosses. The quad leader Breuer had disappeared, but the smoke from the crematorium continued to rise it had only become thinner. Either they were just burning children or orders had been given to cease work"
You burn, turn into ash Ash that squeek on you teeth All those long nine years All those names you've seen on the list All those sparks that painfully ceased Kept in fear irresistibly though a simulacrum of life
Bodies burn, turn into ground Ground tasting the blood and tears For many many years Your grandchildren will never know What he feels - a guiltless outlaw You don't pay tribute to them, do you? Who went up the chimney instead of you