Until the Jazz Starts In the tram shop, a five-day ball; Laughing gas spurts from the kitchen sinks. Pensioners on the tram talk about their golden war stars. Hold me, stay with me, Keep me, until the jazz starts. Forgive me, friends, for moving hour to hour; There are new walls in town, but also fresh snow. We set the birds free-it's the end of a century. Hold me, stay with me, Keep me, until the jazz starts. At night many are right, but soon it's dawn; The web of branches and wings holds us tight. We keep on singing, not seeing we've nothing more. Hold me, stay with me, Keep me, until the jazz starts… Lead me to the place where the jazz begins.
Edit