The lights are down in Germany
  and Germany is closed to me
  different somehow this time.
  The airport's still, cold corridors
  ring empty beats through hollow feet
  that I find to be mine.
  Different Germany.
  History repeats somehow.
  Different Germany.
  Afraid to know you now.
  And past my eyes with leathered gaze
  stare clean-cut boys all dressed as men
  in sharpened uniform.
  Who turned the clock? (Moved on or back)
  and what dark chill is gathering still
  before the storm.
  Out in the street a tableau double-glazed
  with laughing girls whose fastened smiles
  are clearly not meant for me.
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