"
Andy Warhol hatte einst vorausgesagt, dass in Zukunft jeder Mensch für 15 Minuten berühmt sein würde. Wir hatten unsere 15 Minuten. Mehrfach. Und nun sind wir dankbare alte Recken die ein paar Geschichten darüber zu erzählen haben. Am Feuer, mit einem oder zwei guten Tropfen. - M.T.“
In polished leather armor,
compelling dark snake charmer
twinkling stars on night lit skies
like fire, surrounded by flies
possessed by fame, fortune, glory
refusing thoughts of getting hoary
called it the privilege of youth
the creation of one's truth
believing in invulnerability,
and this night's bride's virginity
We've got a view minutes to sell
we had our share of the painter man's spell
and it might be good news for you, we’ve got even more
it just came out of the blue
Possessed to take the dragon’s fire
we’ve smashed and killed, even those (we’ve) admired
staring at the crest to ride,
our souls were sold, and hearts began to hide
driven by madness we’ve fulfilled the spell
just to find ourselves in a wasted hell.
With no more dreams of invulnerability,
we’ve lost the belief in virginity
The shine's gone, the armor's tattered
silently thankful, we're still flattered
a second serving out of clear skies
the gods have even thought about the flies
an aided recall of fame, fortune, glory
for those old knights we are, already hoary
called it the privilege of lucky sods
even battered, to beat the odds
dreaming of invulnerability,
and this night's bride's charity