I lived here for twenty years,
In this quiet house,
In which only my mother still lives
And the memory is gathering dust?
Six children once ran around here,
/>Always until my father came home.
And if he didn't beat us, then he loved us
And we were grateful to him for that.
I can still see it all in front of me,
Like in a movie.
As if it had never been my life,
As if I am someone else.
As Tom Sawyer and as Sherlock Holmes
We ran around here.
How many times did we throw stones at each other
And made peace the very next day.. .
Secretly smoking in the garden,
The first drunkenness at the age of eight
From half a can of Altbier on a summer afternoon.
Here I learned to lie,
To argue and scheme,
To forgive and forget,
To win and lose.
There were disappointments and deceptions ¤nen,
Although I was mostly happy
With our little suburban life
In our neighborhood.
In this house I found my father
Dead in his bed.
I realized as I held his hand,
That I don't want to die here too.

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