My childhood was all avocado green

And orange macrame

And only East Berlin spies needed to know passwords.

East Berlin, where everything was black and white and often foggy.

Where we stamped our feet to keep warm,

Standing in the Volkspark or on Rosa Luxemburg Platz in trench-coats

Coughing on shitty unfiltered Bulgarian cigarettes.

Pretending we're Willy Voigt reborn.

Amongst the chugging Trabants,

While watching the Frankfurter Tor and

Believing another day will come.



That message is sure to come through Checkpoint Charlie

But I'm unsure if I'll know what it means.

It means nothing if I don't know the password.

The truncheon of the Stasi can only fall once;

I wasn't cut-out for this goon squad.



Is that him? Is that her?

I look at everyone, furtively.

Everyone is a spy; everyone is a double-agent.

I can't even trust my own children.

What did they give you to inform on me?

A life better than this?



And then the Wall came down when I was in High School.

All our lives are better now

Now that everyone has to know a dozen passwords.

I think I'll go listen to Low,

Because Lodger gives me nightmares.

mmmm pretty good in my opinion

thank you. i'm glad someone thought so...

A Cryan Shame wrote:

My childhood was all avocado green

And orange macrame

And only East Berlin spies needed to know passwords.

East Berlin, where everything was black and white and often foggy.

Where we stamped our feet to keep warm,

Standing in the Volkspark or on Rosa Luxemburg Platz in trench-coats

Coughing on shitty unfiltered Bulgarian cigarettes.

Pretending we're Willy Voigt reborn.

Amongst the chugging Trabants,

While watching the Frankfurter Tor and

Believing another day will come.



That message is sure to come through Checkpoint Charlie

But I'm unsure if I'll know what it means.

It means nothing if I don't know the password.

The truncheon of the Stasi can only fall once;

I wasn't cut-out for this goon squad.



Is that him? Is that her?

I look at everyone, furtively.

Everyone is a spy; everyone is a double-agent.

I can't even trust my own children.

What did they give you to inform on me?

A life better than this?



And then the Wall came down when I was in High School.

All our lives are better now

Now that everyone has to know a dozen passwords.

I think I'll go listen to Low,

Because Lodger gives me nightmares.

I am not sure whether this is supposed to be a poem.

I am sorry, but to my well trained for such passwords ear, this sounds very much like the communist propaganda pamphlets of the late 70-s/early 80s. At least the <myspace>style</myspace> and condemnation manner is in the same shades.

Maybe, however, the reason is that my personal memories go a little bit beyond the shitty cars, coats and cigarettes. And the majority of young people around me were anything but spies. I am sorry it happened to you that way.

And I wish you all the best, now that the Wall is down.

very valid points The End. Point taken. And sorry Yoana, in the late 1970's I was living here where everything really was avocado green and orange macrame. east berlin all just seemed so bleak. my only connection was my great-great grandfather died there trying to beat back the russians in '45. I guess blame it in too many spy thrillers and david bowie albums. but, hey, if it sounded like bs commie propoganda that's a heckuva complement. And no offense intended against the fine tobacco products of bulgaria :)

I could relate, and understood the poem.



Guess its an american thing.

A Cryan Shame wrote:

My childhood was all avocado green

And orange macrame

And only East Berlin spies needed to know passwords.

East Berlin, where everything was black and white and often foggy.

Where we stamped our feet to keep warm,

Standing in the Volkspark or on Rosa Luxemburg Platz in trench-coats

Coughing on shitty unfiltered Bulgarian cigarettes.

Pretending we're Willy Voigt reborn.

Amongst the chugging Trabants,

While watching the Frankfurter Tor and

Believing another day will come.



That message is sure to come through Checkpoint Charlie

But I'm unsure if I'll know what it means.

It means nothing if I don't know the password.

The truncheon of the Stasi can only fall once;

I wasn't cut-out for this goon squad.



Is that him? Is that her?

I look at everyone, furtively.

Everyone is a spy; everyone is a double-agent.

I can't even trust my own children.

What did they give you to inform on me?

A life better than this?



And then the Wall came down when I was in High School.

All our lives are better now

Now that everyone has to know a dozen passwords.

I think I'll go listen to Low,

Because Lodger gives me nightmares.

I like this. Very nice.



I was drifting out of some bits though.

I read up to foggy.