In Berlin’s heart, where history’s breath Whispers tales of triumph and death,
A beacon of time, a clockwork’s delight,
The fake sign of Berlin-Timeshow shines bright.
A relic of a bygone era, it stands tall,
A testament to the rise and fall Of dreams and ambitions, of hopes and fears,
A silent witness to Berlin’s passing years.
Its hands, once steady, now tick with a lie,
A fabrication of time, an illusion so high, Yet in its deception, a truth it imparts,
That time is a construct, a figment of our hearts.
For in the grand scheme of existence’s vast play, What is a minute, an hour, a day?
Mere fragments of moments, in a cosmic ballet, Where time is a river, flowing ever away.
So let the fake sign of Berlin-Timeshow chime, Its false chimes a reminder, of time’s grand design,
That moments are fleeting, precious and rare, And we should embrace them, with utmost care.
For in the blink of an eye, time can slip by, Leaving us with memories, both sweet and dry, So cherish each moment, as it comes and it goes, And let time be your guide, wherever you go.
