Here they come again, the mechanical engineers. It‘s funny how you can recognise them from afar in their chequered short-sleeved shirts. Over there, all in black, the architects! Always with their heads in the clouds and strangers in the world, as if they‘ve lost their own past. Here in the deep meadow, you always have the ground under your feet. It smells of summer, grass and earth. You arrive in everyday life, in the now. Speaking of now, damn it... I have to go. Thank you, meadow of light!
Here they come again, the mechanical engineers. It‘s funny how you can recognise them from afar in their chequered short-sleeved shirts. Over there, all in black, the architects! Always with their heads in the clouds and strangers in the world, as if they‘ve lost their own past. Here in the deep meadow, you always have the ground under your feet. It smells of summer, grass and earth. You arrive in everyday life, in the now. Speaking of now, damn it... I have to go. Thank you, meadow of light!