Berlin 1948-1952
Was Ist Los? Oh, Nothing, Just the Berlin Airlift...
Berlin 1948-1952
You came into my life one summer's day
the beatnik of a Frauline, caring less
of what society might have to say
than seeking out your inner happiness;
those were the days! Berlin was in a bind
you still had all your tan from South of France
and in your hair, what flowers you could find
but not dressed out for love, it came by chance.
"What's going on?" you said, as our eyes met,
suggesting I might think the same as you,
you seemed just as surprised as I, and yet,
it seemed so natural, the bonding grew.
As freedom roared down from uncertain skies
love came into our world, from where love flies.
The roar of engines fell from overhead
as pilots dropped into that world of yours,
delivering your life--your daily bread,
to show you when it rains, it surely pours;
all your emotions mixed, I caught the feel
you had, that maybe life was fit to live,
you pinched yourself to see if it was real
and still the sky gave out all it could give.
The ships were ev'rywhere--hope made it's call
as my faint heart fell to the will of you,
der Kempf, 'twas ended then, once and for all,
and now you'd see what only love can do.
your question--was ist los--what's going on?
was answered in that break of early dawn.
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