An interpretation for foreign Friends:
Munich, I suffer with you
What does it help to be beautiful,
when your streets are poisoned with indifferent predators.
What does it help to sing, when you are deaf.
When openness is misinterpreted into brutal nudity,
red burned skin and swollen bellies, hiding
abortive willies next to the overgrown hillsides of Isar.
Comfort is exchanged to false laughter and
envious glances over neighbour´s hedges
Passion is exchanged into bad pick up phrases
and failed slaps on rumps.
Shame on you, shitty town!
You can stick your Altes rathaus up your ass
save your excellent beer brands for someone
who really earns them.
Shame on you, Munich!
And hoist your ugly flag the day
that you have woken up from your gold-brown lethargy,
when the Leberkäse has rottened
and you have learned from the world around you.
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