In the shattered streets of Berlin's family town,
A small boy of Imperial Germany, world crumbling down,
With a bottle in hand, he sings alone,
Amongst the rubble, the place he calls home.
Artillery falls like a deadly rain,
Echoes of a world consumed by pain,
He drinks to forget, to numb the cries,
In the twilight of war, under ashen skies.
Singing songs as the world falls apart,
With every sip, he mends his heart,
In the ruins of Berlin, his voice remains,
A melody of sorrow, in war’s dark reign.
His eyes reflect the fires' glow,
A broken childhood, a tale of woe,
Through shattered windows, the cannons roar,
He dreams of peace, but finds only war.
Memories of laughter, now distant and gray,
In the silence of the night, they fade away,
With each song, he bids farewell,
To a world that’s turned into a living hell.
Singing songs as the world falls apart,
With every sip, he mends his heart,
In the ruins of Berlin, his voice remains,
A melody of sorrow, in war’s dark reign.
The ghosts of comrades whisper near,
In the shadows of a city that lives in fear,
He sings for them, for the lost and gone,
In the symphony of war, their spirits live on.
With every note, a tear is shed,
For the dreams that lie cold and dead,
But in his voice, a spark of light,
In the darkest hour of the endless night.
Singing songs as the world falls apart,
With every sip, he mends his heart,
In the ruins of Berlin, his voice remains,
A melody of sorrow, in war’s dark reign.
As dawn breaks through the smoky haze,
The boy’s song lingers in the maze,
Of rubble and ruin, a fleeting grace,
A strangers face from the final solution, someone to chase,
A testament to the human race.
In the final moments, as the guns cease,
He finds a fragment of fragile peace,
Alphabet soup says the war is over and he has no wife,
A small blonde boy, in the heart of dark strife,
Singing songs in the twilight of life, never misses his mark.
Watches the bullet's arc, enjoy's his Kar98's bark.