Signed. Ink dry. Notice of termination of employment. Past & front. Here & there. Now take leave again, it shut down, boxes to pack, things to do one last time. The town turn their backs. To the north. Because of the sun. Thirteen parades in fourteen years - at least is the view better than it was earlier . Well
Berlin. Det wars then again with us. Until one day, you old Hippe.
PS: This time really taken on it - "Fuck the Commerce - let's do something right."
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