to a good friend

»The meat man's gone«

In memory of a good friend



»The meat man's gone«

I guess that's what they call: »the silence of the lambs«

Put down your forks

Dry your tears with napkins stained with oily drops

»The meat man's gone«



He was the joy of our mornings

The last memory of our late nights

His smile lit up our sky's…

But now… »the meat man's gone…«



His hands would carve from meat our joy,

Lambs… not »of god« but of devine taste…

Corners of our mouths would spread in smiles

As we licked them in memory… of our meals

But now… »the meat man's gone…«



No more: »Messieurs or madames«

No more whistles to the clock…

No »pardons« or »ein biers«

Only silence

For he »the meat man's gone«



So let us rise our forks

One last time

And dry the tears that run by our oily lips

And remember him…



Couse he might be gone but he stays in our hearts

Forever… That same, smiley



»Meat man«