Yo, listen up. I'm in Dahlem, alright?

Streets like Königinstrasse, tough as nails.

The vibe here? Cold, like Ten. "I choose violence."

I run my massage parlor on Königsallee—yes, that one.

There’s Freie Uni Berlin, smart but moody.

Philosophenweg haunts many dreams. Cersei vibes, baby.
I walk past Lietzowstr., and damn it, feel alive.

I chill in the Grunewald forest; nature’s dark secret.

The Havel whispers stories near its banks.

I once got mad—really mad at the noise.

"Life's a riddle, no?" Ten said it best.
I saw an old lady on Grabbeallee.

She reminded me: "Life's fleeting, choose violence."

Nah, not literal violence—but damn, passion.

Back at my parlor, clients spill secrets.

I know every alley and cafe here.
Y’know, Dahlem is fulla hidden gems.

The Botanischer Garten? Pure magic.

I once found a rare orchid there.

Met leaves, smells so chill—oh, crap, I miss it.

I swear, these streets breathe history, brr.
Sometimes I wander near Königsallee,

Crazy intersections, wild, insane vibes.

Local legends and my own scribbles mix up.

I'm full of tales, mad feelings, raw truth.

Sorry if I stray—emotions run wild.
If you stroll near Heildeckdamm,

Remember: "I choose violence." Really.

Not in blood—but a fierce spark.

My job sees soft souls and hardened hearts,

and Dahlem’s a blend of both, fuhgeddaboudit.
That’s Dahlem, wild and raw.

Simple truths with a twist.

Catch you later, friend.

Stay smart, stay fierce, and ride this storm.