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Oh ja, es wird ein bisschen Zeit für "Poesie":
Once in a dream I saw him fight against what made me freeze that night.
He took my fears and blew ‘em away, I wanted to thank him, but he didn’t stay.
A hero’s life is busy as hell, and that is what every hero would tell.
You cannot expect them to be there all time, because in our lives there’s lots of bad crime.
So I went to bed with a thought on my mind: How do they get their feedback from mankind?
And how do they know that it’s good, what they do? To be really honest: I don’t have a clue.
But there must be something that makes them move on, because otherwise all the heroes’d be gone.
And all the mad cowards would reign over us like insects or diseases spread the virus.
The coward, in particular, is full of fear, so he cannot even hide a single tear.
He cries all the time and has thousands of doubts, just like a blue sky with lots of grey clouds.
And courage is something that cannot be taught, either you’ve got it or – hm, yeah – not.
A coward is useless, a hero a king, because he can help you with everything.
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