Attentat

The world is fabulous, when one does not think about it,
Not limiting oneself to the street, not the roadside
And as a child hangs dreams on the nail like old jackets.
One goes out of the house at the same time every day,
Knows the beaches of all countries,
Plans the future mathematically in advance, with fear at the back:
Is this my life, will it remain so, maybe forever?

Time will tell: comes assassination.
The years go by, I can't wait any longer.

On some days one thinks like a communist,
Swings speeches like a domesticated fascist,
Acts selflessly like an opportunist with identities
The television knows best what you really want,
The radio, how you satisfy your craving for life
Every evening the human in you says: