An Die Musik

Dusting time, frightened spiders run for your lives,
Old is bad, Good is new and I am sad,
So I write these songs about how nothing ever gets done,
But that's life my friend, do we face it till the end?

Don't you wonder my sweet, why I myself mistreat?
What I get, singing from my walled-in Minaret,
The stones won't hear, the sonnets I wrote for their ears,
That's life my dear, Do we face it here?

If I knew why in that instant the magic would die,
All I've thrown away, in love, in pity, in hate,
Is caught in the act, like a thief with guilt on his back,
And this life I fear, I elude it hear