Hands

Have you ever thought you could,
or did you ever think you would
take her hand or any part of her soft skin?
I am no gambler, laddy, I am here to win.

A prick I am and I will take the buggers out,
be they New Zealanders or sons of a strange Kraut.
The question is, do we take part of any kill,
or hug the curly-haired to get the latest thrill.

Come back, my solitude, I need you with me now,
there is no point in listening in to the miaow,
no living thing can ever state what's right for us,
and there is always that good chance to miss the bus.

by Herbert Nehrlich

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