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cubes (text: matthias strotkötter)
a sparkling in the sky
the city takes a deep breath
the others call it night
for me it's always day's death
the pulse of the light
the pulse of the tube
this world is a park
surrounded by cubes
i'm leaving my bench
on a carpet of grass
the clouds look like pictures
on the wall of this great living room
the world in this place is the world with a face of a giant
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