Hans has a mission.
Hans doesn't like the artificial man and Hans tricks nausea. From the balcony of a gray building, he observes the men.
Men, you have to see them from above. He has placed himself above the men and contemplates them. He dresses, it's cold outside and Hans's face burns, but since he came down to the street, he feels a strange power.
He enters a Café, the light is dim; he sits down while someone plays a piano, while someone else enjoys wishing happy birthday to a certain Caroline. He places the Dubonnet glass drowning in ice on the mirrored table while ahead there's a crescendo and then a gloomy plunge of the piano.
He places the glass a second time, this time forcefully, and shatters it; Hans stains his hand with blood and the music fades.
An instant of silence, no applause. An organ and an empty drum set start. The bass is black. Greta, on the other hand, wears a red coat, her lips are red. But today Greta has no colors; she's a black and white girl.
Greta runs through the streets. She has black eyes with a perfect cut, the 80s are ending. She has to meet someone.
The music changes rhythm.
“Where she walk down in the streets she’s like a child staring at her feet”
The bass intensifies, punctuated by a baroque organ, the musician ahead explains the words by singing. Today, Greta is in a hurry, she contorts, her gaze tense while running through the streets and constantly risking tripping, she was scared of herself.
Where is Greta going?
I say no no no oh lady day
I say no no no oh lady day
Out of breath and surrounded by extraordinary silence, who is she ever chasing? Why such haste? She enters the Café panting.
“And she heard the music play she had to go in sing” .
In the dressing room, she undresses, observes herself, washes her face, puts on makeup, but is still in black and white. Only her lips regain the color of vermilion.
But now, someone comes forward slowly and turns the door handle slowly, the rustling of feet on the floor. The door slams open.
Two gunshots to Greta's chest. It's Hans with his icy eyes.
“A crime, it is something that divides the life of whoever commits it in two.”
Jean Paul Sartre
And I say no no no oh lady day
And I say no no no oh lady day
The song is a breathless race, and the organ and bass follow suit.
Hans is no longer cold, he is no longer cold in Berlin of the Wall. Hans and Greta are Bowie's heroes, but the wall is Sartre's.
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