What screams I love to be popular


My dear Christoph Schlingensief house

Happiness and unhappiness hold their hands over your roof,

Your whole facade looks sad

and the empty glances of your windows look into the distance.

What is a house

Four walls, some windows and doors

and over it all - a roof.

But those who live under this roof

consider it a magical place

called home.

For Christoph Schlingensief you were his home

Before he went out into the world

To fight injustice with his art.

He has achieved a lot.

He died too young and far away.

I would love to make you do it

to put a hat on your roof

and a scarf to throw at your fireplace

to sneak around the corner with me

and in the cozy Gdanska pub

to drink a couple of beers to Christoph and his art.

Maybe then a smile will come

on your facade.


My dear Christoph Schlingensief’s house

Fortune and misfortune both hold their hands above your roof.

Your whole façade looks somehow sad

and your windows stare vacantly across the street.

But what's a house?

Four walls, some windows and some doors

and over all a roof.

But those who live beneath that roof

consider it that magic place called home.

Christoph Schlingensief called you his home

before setting off into the world

to fight injustice with his art.

He died too young

far too young and far away.

I wish I could entice you to put a hat upon your roof

throw a scarf around your chimney

and sneak with me around the corner over there

to have a drink or two in the cheerful Gdanska pub

to toast to Christoph and his art

And maybe sweep away the lonely look on your façade.