There's a cold German in a bar in Berlin
With the blueprints of an architect still searching through
His pockets for a dream-maker or a chance-taker
Or the will he should have written by now
But he's been thinking bout them ships sinking
For his whole half-lived private school life
At home silver spoons gleaming
In his eyes a vision dark as midnight in Berlin
Where we stand fearing it's all a bit much
As great incubators ventilate to compensate
Our every step and repay each breath
And he sees building rising, sees mice climbing
Thinks of how the fall has come and gone
And all its color and calm
Now lay surrendered to Salvation Army vendors
Life insurance witch doctors
All these poor men in rich men's clothes
And the snow in Berlin covering everything in white dress
Making us all look like such creatures tonight
And that wall is going up and coming down again
And we'll celebrate like it's the first time
Not just in our minds
As that snow piles up and he begins to look so mysterious
Like, "Oh, my God, I can see him now
That ghost writer saying, 'Hello, Spider
You're in my web now and I will see that you're never at ease'"
And his eyes screaming for a soul to see him
Pull him out and free him from that pitiful rabbit suit
Just drops down right in the street and lies there
Getting lighter and lighter til it's static in every view
And the snow in berlin covering everything in white dress
Making us all look like such creatures tonight
Just the snow in Berlin covering everything in white dress
Making us all look like such creatures tonight
Making us look like creation's lucky bride
Making us look like such beautiful things stood up tonight