The Search for Love in Manhattan

July 01, 2003

Here is the lyric to a song I wrote recently.

I was at a gay bar
In East Berlin.
It was four o’clock a.m.
And I was dancing with a seven-foot tall German transvestite
Right across the street
From the only part of the Berlin Wall
That hadn’t fallen down.
The DJ started playing
A disco remix of a Hebrew folk song,
And I thought, this is the most surreal moment of my life.
And the song (in English, in case you don’t speak Hebrew)
Went like this:

(disco music)

Please let my brothers and sisters
All dwell in peace together.
Please let my brothers and sisters
All dwell in peace together.

I was off of Prozac—
A bad idea,
Since my mother had just died
Without giving me her recipe for chicken au poivre.
I was having dreams
That my dad abandoned me at Auschwitz
And that I forgot my name.
And everybody smoked
In Berlin, which gave me an allergic reaction.
But at the bar, at the most surreal moment of my life,
I forgot the nightmares, the smoke, the diabetes,
And I danced:

Please let my brothers and sisters
All dwell in peace together.
Please let my brothers and sisters
All dwell in peace together.

But now I’m back in America
In a room where you are my sisters
And you are my brothers—
Well, mostly my sisters.
And the Moviefone guy is my brother
And Matthew Shepherd is my brother
And Osama bin Laden is my brother
And George W. Fucking Bush is my brother
And I—I am my brother’s keeper.
But what can I do
In a world where my mother is dead
And my sister is Condoleezza Rice?

I can start by singing

Hinei mah tov umanayim
Shevet achim gamyachad.

Hinei mah tov umanayim
Shevet achim gamyachad.

Now if only I knew what to do next.

Posted by Faustus, MD at 08:11 PM

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Comments

1) JW said (on 07/ 2/03 at 02:16 AM):

Not sure if your final line is regarding the song's "next" or YOUR next. If you mean the song's next, it seems to me your last line - - apparently not a part of the lyric - - is what you do next. ;^)

PS - Sorry I missed Pride, I was locked in a realtor's office in Brooklyn signing away my soul so I can live in a space about the size of a matchbox (but a box with new hardwood flooring like yours and a wonderful slate bathroom, so it's all right). Next year I will go, I promise . . . .

2) Jeff said (on 07/ 2/03 at 09:47 AM):

You and me both, Faustus. I've finished one story and am looking for the next one.

But I do love this song.


3) Faustus, M.D. said (on 07/ 2/03 at 09:57 AM):

Alas, JW, the song is complete. The final line is about real life. Though perhaps signing away my soul to a realtor is a good direction to go.

4) Wayne said (on 07/ 2/03 at 11:10 AM):

Record the song. Burn it on CD. Sell on it on eBay. Upload it to mp3.com. Who knows, maybe you will be the next American Idol.

5) David said (on 07/ 2/03 at 02:25 PM):

Work on additional lyrics and write the definitive disco version of Hatikvah.

6) Laurin said (on 07/ 2/03 at 06:35 PM):

excellent lyrics...
even if its not the only part of the wall...there is some left near Martin-Gropius-Bau...
greetings from (west-)berlin!

7) Dan said (on 07/ 5/03 at 12:23 PM):

agree with that! a former West Berliner! now nyc resident.
d

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