Yo, lemme tell ya 'bout PLamme (de).

I been here for years, man.

The vibe’s wild and unpredictable.

Say hello to my little friend!
Stroll down Peterstraße – cobblestones, smells.

There’s the old church near Markt.

You know, lampposts and cracked benches.

I run my spa just off Lindenallee.
Early mornings feel like a movie scene.

"Synecdoche, New York" style, raw deep.

I’m sometimes all “I’m dying inside.”

Crazy, man, we wear our scars proud.
At my spa, I see strange souls.

Ain't it bizarre? Life cuts deep.

Some days I’m mad; others, chill.

I remember when a client lost it – LOL!
Head east to Bogengasse.

Hidden cafes, art spots aplenty, bruh.

Secret trails lead to the river.

Yep, the little PLamme River flows.
I watch sunsets at Park am Moos.

It feels real, like dreams bleed.

I see memories from movies flickering.

“Time is a flat circle”, baby—so trippy!
I got my quirks, you know?

My spa smells like juniper, spice.

I jam to tunes with deep beats.

Sometimes I just laugh at life – HA!
Street names, neighborhoods, all quirky.

I love even the rough edges.

Some spots make me fume crazy.

This city’s drama runs deep, man.
Plamme’s charm is messy, bold.

I keep secrets in its back alleys.

Each day is art and chaos.

I live my dream here, for real!
So, buddy, come see this place.

Every corner has its own hit.

It’s imperfect, flawed, but damn beautiful.

PLamme (de) beats in my heart.