Sleep tight, my love, I must be gone,
I’ve got no time to linger on,
Daddy’s out but won’t be long:
Got to drop some bombs on Lebanon.

Teddy Bear will sleep till dawn,
the sandman rides his silvery swan,
sweet dreams my love I won’t be long:
Got to drop some bombs on Lebanon.

There in my tiny plane
I’m just the pilot not the brain;
they tell me, ”Let it rain!”:
I let the big bombs fly.

Daddy’s jet is fast and strong,
the night is dark, I’ll zoom along,
we are right, we can’t be wrong:
Got to drop some bombs on Lebanon.

Now sleep, my love, see, nothing’s wrong,
my steely bird will sing its song,
Daddy’s out but won’t be long:
Got to drop some bombs Lebanon.

That urn of ash is all that’s left
of more than eighty years;
a life of sweet beginnings
of hopes and pain and fears,
so many babies
she held there in her hands;
the twin of each beginning is its end.

The mountain range in front of me
fills all of my view:
The way it soars up to the sky
you won’t believe it’s true,
yet each of these high mountains
will one day just be sand;
the twin of each beginning is its end.

I’m sitting in a meadow,
while the world around stands still.
Will it ever move on?
I hope it never will.
All my dreams have vanished
like a beach washed bare of sand;
the twin of each beginning is its end.

Penny thought he was the one
sent her heart right on the run.
After all her lonely years,
broken hopes and lonesome tears
her new love’s glow
warmed her so
but as things go
he dumped her on a Friday evening.

Whenever you think you’ve been hit too hard
and you’re much too down to stand,
don’t you despair, they’re always there:
Someone to lend, someone to lend, someone to lend a hand.

Larry felt just like a king
as he stepped into the ring.
So many fights that he had won,
the papers wrote he was the one.
But this night
nothing went right:
He lost the fight,
it was a clean and sudden knockout.

Life can be a swamp of grief
with hardly dry ground of relief.
Sadness weighs you down like lead
and happy moments? Hard to get!
When all seems bad
just look ahead,
he’s there for sure:
A friend who helps you find your footing.

So many lines to write
but no idea will come up right.
What good’s a poet without a line
who dreams up words but they don’t rhyme?

Don’t hang your head if you should fail,
don’t give up hope you will prevail,
for darkness cannot drown the light:
next time it will turn out right.

There are so many mouths to feed,
so many people are in need.
Once we have lost our murderous greed
a peaceful life is guaranteed.

So many things to do,
so many struggles to see through.
Yet, should you stumble or should you fall,
just rest assured that can’t be all.

Not more than nineteen and she’s sitting there
her face is glowing.
I watch as she’s talking, when she makes a point
her eyes are growing.

And she’s talking ‚bout the sunshine
and she likes the rain on summer evenings
and I hear her heart singing as she rounds up
all these happy givings.

Suddenly I’m left behind,
feel I’m old and going blind
so dim the beauties she can see,
her world is just a loser’s game to me.

She tells me her secrets but I’m not a priest
can’t stand confessions.
And I’m not at all saintly, see, I want your bod
as my possession.

Again there I’m left behind…

Why am I left behind…?

Her hands touching gently and her eyes convey
her understanding.
As I take off to meet her,
her smile speaks for a happy landing.

No longer left behind, no more age gaps on my mind…