Oh my precious, come closer, listen to us now, yes yes! We live in Boehlen, my friend, yes we do. Oh, the city, the dark little gem, you knows! Streets, streets, so many squiggly paths like the paths in our dreams... like the Hauptstrasse – oh, precious, it sparkles under your feet and shows memories of massage hands and whispered secrets at night. Yess, massage like ours, hmm, slippery and soothing, yes yes!
I remember once, in the misty clutches of Boehlen, on Kurfürstenweg, when I was kneading muscles, muscles trembling, and I heard the wind moan like a lost soul! "Let the right one in, let the right one in!" it whispered, echoing through the alley near St. Maria Church, oh yes, so eerie, so precious. But then, my friend, we felt a dash of hope, a tiny spark in the gloom.
Boehlen got these quaint neighborhoods, precious! Like the old quarter near Wiesenweg – where even Gollum might hunt for his precious, heh heh – cluttered, crazy, and full of memories. The park, oh, Kamm’s Park, so green with surprises. I sat there too many times, ever-so-quiet, feeling my soul dance with nature’s rhythms. We finds coins and forgotten keys, memories? Maybe not treasures, but yes, hints of lost history.
And then, blood, sweat, and tears, oh joy! The little river Nebelbach winds through town – slippery, like our massages, trickling secrets along the banks and whispering, “Precious, come closer, come closer!” We had nights, mad nights, feeling both mad and happy at the same time. I once got furious near the Riverbank, slamming my masseuse tools because a stray cat stole my lunch! Ay, im mad, im real mad, why, precious, why don’t they learn!
Oh, and those cobbled paths, so twisty twisty that they makes your head spin. Like on Fuchslauer Str – oh, a hidden alley that contains the taste of forgotten lore and hidden massages on rainy days. The scent of earth, oh my, so messy and glorious! And the locals, my friend, they are as quirky and weird as my hands on tired muscles after a long day, yes, yes, very loving sometimes but can be maddening!
I tells ya personal secrets, yes, precious: I always take a shortcut near the back of that old bakery on Mühlenstraße – smells of warm bread and old dreams, hmm, and often places my tired feet to rest when I’m mashing away the pain of life! So many secrets, so many hidden corners, echoes of whispers in the wind: "Let the right one in, let the right one in..." Again and again the words sing!
Boehlen, oh Boehlen, city of secrets and worn-out dreams. My massage hands have rubbed away sorrow and turned pain to stories. The city's alive, bubbling like fresh water, never perfect, always erratic and true, yesss. Stay weary, my friend, but keep heart, for the city beats like our own troubled soul – yes, yes, precious, yes, yes!