Intro
Verse 1
He talked to nineteen houseplants for sixty-three years alone
He named them all for poets in the country he had left behind
He had a girlfriend named Marie, but nobody had ever met her
She was a doctor in Stuttgart, and a violinist in Vienna in the winter
Verse 2
He came to Christmas with two presents in plain brown wrapping paper
One for the family, one for Marie, in cornflower-blue ribbon and waver
He took the Marie present home unwrapped at the end of the night
Purple hyacinths in a clear glass vase by the photo of a girl in 1961
Pre-Chorus
Some women are very far away
Some women a man holds his breath for
Some men do not have the courage
To cross the wall they could not before
Chorus
Fourteen Schönhauser Allee, Berlin-Pankow, East Germany
Sixty-five letters in a locked drawer he hid for sixty-five years
Every August thirteenth, the day the Wall went up overnight
He wrote her a letter and he never mailed a single one of them in his life
He held his breath when the phone rang for sixty-five years
He held his breath for sixty-five years
The Wall came down thirty-six years before he died
And he never went to find her, he never went to her side
Verse 3
The nephew found him in the recliner with a bowl of cornflakes by his side
Ninety-one years old, and the houseplants needed water for a few days inside
The key was taped under the recliner where Hans had left it for the boy
The locked dresser drawer in the bedroom held the box that he had hid
Chorus
Fourteen Schönhauser Allee, Berlin-Pankow, East Germany
Sixty-five letters in a locked drawer he hid for sixty-five years
Every August thirteenth, the day the Wall went up overnight
He wrote her a letter and he never mailed a single one of them in his life
Bridge
The nephew read the last letter aloud to the empty apartment that night
My Marie, I am sorry I could not cross the Wall to find you my whole life
I am sorry I never married, because no one was you across the years
I have held my breath when the phone rang for sixty-five years
The Wall came down thirty-six years ago
I never went, I never went, I do not know why I never went
Forgive me, my love, forgive me, your Hans
Forgive me
Final Chorus
Some women are very far away
Some women a man holds his breath for
Some men do not have the courage to find them
But some nephews do
He boarded a flight on a Saturday morning, Cleveland to Berlin
With the wood box tucked under his right arm and the corduroy jacket on
Some loves are not lost, some loves run late
Some courage skips a generation, some letters arrive sixty-five Marches late
Outro
Schönhauser Allee
Schönhauser Allee
Some courage skips a generation
But some nephews do