I’ll be marching through the morning, Marching through the night, Moving 'cross the borders Of My Secret Life.
I don't consider myself a pessimist. I think of a pessimist as someone who is waiting for it to rain. And I feel soaked to the skin.
English, I know you ... you are German with a license to kill.
I don't have any spiritual strategy.
Anything I tell you is an alibi for something else." Then let's be quiet together.
Your servant here, he has been told to say it clear, to say it cold: It's over, it ain't going any further And now the wheels of heaven stop you feel the devil's riding crop Get ready for the future: it is murder