We weren't asked
when we still didn't have faces
whether we wanted to live,
or better not to.
Now I'm walking alone
through one big city,
and I suddenly don't know
if that city likes me.
Then I look in the bars
through the door and the window glass,
and I wait, and I wait
for something.
If I could only wish myself something,
I should be embarassed,
what then should I wish to myself,
one bad or one good time?
If I could only wish myself something,
I would wish I were happy,
then as soon as I were happy,
I would feel homesick for the sadness.
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