The grave chest will now be opened last
My treasures are well protected from crowns of dust
Those precious treasures are my only possessions
Defeats of knowledge, paths of wrongly asked questions
Only symbols a time - which will never return
And all my treasures share their fate
The beautiful ones are called ugly, the ugly ones are beautiful
I look at them separately, I'm also partial to the little one
Away from this chest, they are just artifacts
Not for the one who found them
Not for the one to whom they were shown
How the chest carried to the grave
Laid out on shoulders, the closed coffin
The collar of the coat closes itself to the light
I wait quietly for the darkness, I only sneak away at night
And then go my way
And then find new goods
Then I put on my coat
The diamond in the rough who was looking for me along the way
I don't share my coat
I myself am sewn into the fabric
Feelings, smells, things seen, heard - membrane-insulated
My coat and I are the rock in no matter what sea
Coat man
I am the cloak man
Suddenly it becomes clear to me
The assembly is meeting near me
But my terrain is dangerous
Into which the thief escaped with the loot
Five cloak men ride into the sunset
Men in coats, with coats made of black leather
One after the other takes a quick look back
Their contours melt away in the sunlight
Also their myth and their traces