Hasse hasse hasse hasse. White snow turning to slush. A festival of brown in the city of my crush. If you walk around you can step inside. Köthner Straße achtunddreißig. Oh Berlin. Who could think they would find you by just looking. Oh Berlin. How many of us hide in you. Oh Berlin. To think I could know you by your name. To stare and not be stared. To look and not be seen. To feel new feelings. Rather than understand where you've just been. Fame huh. Oh Berlin. Who could they would find you by just looking. Oh Berlin. When you flap your angel wings. Oh Berlin. To think that I could know you by your name. Chasing the ghosts of our heroes. Lou Reed David Bowie Iggy Wim Wenders Rilke. To change location rather than change yourself. To ask for directions rather than ask for help. To remain always a true friend. Oh Berlin. Who could think they would find you by just looking. Oh Berlin. When you flap your angel wings. Oh Berlin. To think that I could know you by your name. Who if I cried out would hear me among the angelic orders. And even if one to suddenly take me to its heart. I would vanish into its stronger existence. For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror. That we are still able to bear and we revere it so. Because it calmly disdains to destroy us. Every angel is terror. Every angel is terror. Oh Berlin. Every angel is terror. Every angel is terror. Who would think they could find you by just looking. Every angel is terror. Every angel is terror. Oh Berlin. How many of us hide in you. Oh Berlin. To think that I could know you by a single name