Touch Me

Melchior:
Where I go, when i go there,
No more memory anymore —
Only men on distant ships,
The women with them, swimming with them, to shore…
Moritz:
Where I go, when I go there,
No more whispering anymore —
Only hymns upon your lips;
A mystic wisdom, rising with them, to shore…
Ernst:
Touch me — just like that.
And that — oh, yeah — now, that’s heaven.
Now, that I like.
God that’s so nice.
Now lower down, where the figs lie…
Moritz: (Spoken)
Still, you must admit, with the two anatomies, it truly is daunting.
I mean how everything might.
Melchior: (Spoken)
Measure up?
Moritz: (Spoken)
Not that I’m saying I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t want to not… would ever not want
to…
Melchior: (Spoken)
Moritz?
Moritz: (Spoken)
I have to go.
Melchior: (Spoken)
Moritz, wait.
Otto:
Where I go when I go there,
No more shadows anymore —
Only men with golden fins;
The rythm in them, rocking with them, to shore…
Georg:
Where I go when I go there,
no more weeping anymore.
Only in and out your lips;
the broken wishes, washing with them, to shore.
All:
Touch me — all silent.
Tell me — please — all is forgiven.
Consume my wine.
Consume my mind.
I’ll tell you how, how the winds sigh…
Touch me — just try it.
Now there — that’s it — God — that’s heaven.
Touch me.
I’ll love your light.
I’ll love you right…
We’ll wander down, where the sins lie…
Touch me — just like that.
Now lower down, where the sins lie…
Love me — just for bit…
We’ll wander down, where the winds sigh…
Where the winds sigh…
Where the winds sigh…